


Prisoner

by TheLoud



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-05-23 18:03:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 41,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14939201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLoud/pseuds/TheLoud
Summary: When a human is captured by werewolves, escape is impossible, but she might be able to accomplish one thing: kill Remus Lupin. He’s the most evil werewolf in the pack because he’s the best at pretending to be human.





	1. Chapter 1

The monsters dragged Sarah to, she presumed, their leader. He was the biggest, anyway, and his fangs and claws were the longest. This is a nightmare, she repeated to herself. I’ll wake up any moment.

Their leader got off of his crude wooden throne, walked to her, and sniffed her like a dog would. She wished once again that they hadn’t taken her clothes. He grinned, showing off his fangs. “Congratulations on a successful hunt,” he told her captors. “This one seems too good to just use for meat.” Sarah screamed in shock and pain as he abruptly attempted to finger her with his clawed hand. “And feels like a virgin,” he said. He licked his claws. “So, not pregnant with any human pups yet. Lupin!” he called to one of the other monsters standing by his throne.

The other monster snapped to attention and stepped forward. “Yes, my lord?” He looked nearly as brawny as the leader, but was younger, his shaggy hair sunstreaked sandy brown rather than greying.

“You’ve served me quite well recently. You deserve a reward. Do you like this one?” 

The younger monster stood there blinking his gold-glinting eyes. “My lord?” he said eventually, which seemed to serve the same function as “Um,” but more formally. 

“This pack could use more werewolves with magical abilities like yours,” said the leader. “Get this bitch pregnant, raise some pups to do magic like you. This pack would get even stronger.”

“Actually, given what is known about the inheritance of magical ability… Yes my lord. An excellent plan. A true leader thinks long-term. I am honored to serve—“ 

“You’re babbling again, Lupin. Do you like this one, or should I give this bitch to someone else and catch another for you?”

“This one is fine, my lord,” he said, not looking at her. 

“That’s settled then. You’re relieved of duty for the rest of the day. Go take your bitch, have fun.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

“You need any help restraining her?” he added with a grin of his sharp teeth.

Lupin scoffed. “Very droll, my lord.” Then he pulled a stick from his sleeve and pointed it at her. The two monsters who’d been gripping her arms suddenly let go and stepped away in fear. “ _Incarcerous_ .” Ropes shot out of the stick and tied themselves tightly around her. “ _Mobilicorpus_ ,” he added, and she found herself floating weightlessly a few inches above the ground. This dream was making no sense. Monsters didn’t need both fangs and antigravity superpowers, that was just overkill. She floated away past crowds of leering monsters, through the woods, until they got to a patch of pine trees, the ground thickly covered with a blanket of needles. It felt soft when she dropped to it, still bound.

Her designated rapist, who’d been walking along behind her, waved his stick in a circle around them. He then sent two bolts of white light from his stick. They curved behind a tree, from which two cries of “Ow!” were heard. Then he rushed to grab two teenaged boys? Teenaged monsters? From behind the tree.

“This isn’t a peep show,” he said, his eyes blazing gold. He growled, bared his long fangs, and shoved them away. One of the boys ran.

The other stayed to ask, “What’s a peep show?”

The monster sighed. “I’ll tell you later. Now go or I won’t let you into tomorrow’s class.” The kid ran.

He slowly and carefully waved his stick in a circle again. “We’re alone,” he said very quietly. “But werewolf hearing is much better than human, so we have to assume that anything louder than a whisper will be overheard. I assume you realize there’s no point trying to escape. We’re much faster and stronger than you, and there are security spells around the whole camp. Sorry about the ropes. _Finite Incantatem_.” The ropes binding her vanished.

“Werewolf?” she said. “I’ve been abducted by a bunch of werewolves?”

“Um. Yes. Sorry about that.”

“But werewolves don’t exist.”

His eyes widened. Confusingly, they were brown now, not gold. She knew what that sort of inconsistency meant.

“This is a nightmare,” she said confidently. “I’ll wake up any moment.

“I wish,” said the werewolf bitterly, which was further proof that this was not actually happening. He sighed. “You deserve an explanation.”

“Whatever. I’ll write it down when I wake up, and it won’t make any sense.”

“Where to even start? Well, for one, magic is real.”

“Hilarious! Where does my subconscious get these ideas?”

“Please,” he whispered desperately. “Don’t sound happy. At least don’t be loud about it. They’ll hear you.”

“I wonder if I can fly. It’s my dream.”

“I’ll have to cast a silencing spell. Damn, but anyone listening will wonder why…” He picked up a large fallen tree limb. His eyes blazed gold for a moment. He suddenly shouted, “Shut the fuck up, bitch!” He slammed the tree limb into the trunk of a large tree. Pine needles rained down on them annoyingly. He shook the pine needles off himself with a very dog-like motion. Then he put a finger to his lips to hush her, unnecessarily, as she was speechless. He put down the tree limb and drew that stick from his sleeve again. He waved it in complicated patterns around them while muttering strange incantations. Then he put the stick back in his sleeve and sat next to her on the pine needles, but still avoided looking directly at her. “Now that I’ve knocked you unconscious,” he said calmly, “no one will wonder about your sudden silence, so my silencing spell should go unnoticed. Feel free to talk normally, at least in this area between these four trees.”

She suddenly had nothing to say.

Her designated rapist took off his shirt. His skin was crisscrossed with terrible scars. Under the scars, he had muscles like a cartoon superhero. Supervillain, she corrected herself. “Go on, take it, put it on. Please.” He was holding his shirt out to her. “I'm not that good at transfiguring things into clothes, and it’s hard to have a conversation with a naked girl. And you must be cold. I’m sorry they took your clothes. I’ll try to get them back for you later.” He was still averting his gaze. She, on the other hand, stared.

She reluctantly took his shirt and put it on. It seemed clean enough, and felt very warm. The sudden warmth made her shiver. He was tall, so his shirt covered her to the tops of her thighs. 

“Thank you,” he said. He had less difficulty looking at her now, although she found it harder to look at him once she remembered that it was rude to stare. “I’m sorry, I know my scars are hideous. I didn’t mean to make you look at me, you may look away of course. I just thought, well, now we’re sort of even. I figured you wouldn’t want to be naked.”

“This is worse than those dreams where you’re naked in class.”

“You get those too? And then there’s a test you didn’t study for, and an assignment you didn’t know about is due.”

“Those are the worst!”

“Those are actually some of my better nightmares. Anyway, as I was saying, magic is real. Things you were told are myths are real. Werewolves, dragons, unicorns, etc are all real.” 

“Ooh, unicorns? No offense, but I’d much prefer unicorns to werewolves. If I concentrate, I should be able to take charge of this dream, right? Come on, unicorn!”

The werewolf blinked at her. Then he smiled. He had slightly crooked human teeth, not fangs. “I don’t have much use for unicorns, but if you could make a chocolate bar materialize, that would be great. I haven’t had chocolate for weeks.” 

“No problem. It’s my dream.”

“And a cure for lycanthropy,” he added. “That has priority over even the chocolate, actually.”

“I’m on it,” she assured him. “What’s lycanthropy?”

“The disease that turns humans into werewolves. Oh, and cancer. Cure that first, then lycanthropy, then make a chocolate shop appear over there between those trees, and they’re giving out free samples to advertise their new location. Put a library next door.”

“You’re awfully bossy, you know. This is my dream. What if I want an ice cream shop and a roller rink? And a cure for the common cold?” 

“If this is your dream, you have an awful lot to answer for. Or perhaps I should say there is considerable room for improvement. Anyway, as long as your ice cream shop has chocolate ice cream, I’ll forgive the rest.” The werewolf looked basically human now. He had perfectly ordinary brown eyes, human teeth, and short-bitten human nails. He sighed and rubbed his temples. “This is fun, but I’m wasting time. Whether you believe it or not, you’ve been captured by a werewolf pack. I’m supposed to be raping you right now.”

“I don’t mind chatting instead.”

“I’m not going to do it! Sorry, you have no reason to trust me. You don’t even believe I exist. But as long as I’m trying to convince you of unlikely things, that includes convincing you that I’m not a rapist.”

“You’re more into lycanthropy for the cannibalism, are you?”

She’d said the wrong thing. The look he gave her was frightening in a perfectly human way. “Werewolves eating humans isn’t cannibalism,” he said. 

“What?” 

“Cannibalism means eating members of one’s own species. Werewolves aren’t human, so werewolves eating humans isn’t cannibalism, it’s anthropophagy, from the Greek _anthropos_ , meaning human, and _phagia_ , meaning eat. Anthropophagy refers to the consumption of humans by any species, human or otherwise.”

“So that makes it all right?”

“No! Of course not. Eating humans is evil whatever it’s called. It’s just not cannibalism when werewolves do it, it’s anthropophagy. You used the wrong word. The English language is a tool capable of great precision when used correctly.”

She blinked at him for a while. “All right. You’re not into it for the rape or the cannibalism, you’re just into it for the anthropophagy. Sorry, my mistake.”

“I don’t prey on humans. I don’t even eat humans that other werewolves have hunted. That’s just a stereotype.    Well. All right, some stereotypes have a basis in reality. Some werewolves do eat people. All right, everyone in this pack except for me does, but I don’t.”

“So what are you doing here? There can’t be many opportunities to argue semantics in this crowd.”

The look he gave her now was at least an improvement over the last few. It was a cautious, distrustful look. “I have nowhere else to go,” he said. “Humans would kill me on sight if they knew what I was. I can pass for human most of the time, but it’s difficult, and impossible at the full moon. Here I’m accepted for what I am.”

“As long as you go along with the rape and anthropophagy and such.”

“Well. Yes.”

“You just stood there and watched Greyback assault me. You didn’t do anything to stop him.” 

“I’m sorry. Sometimes, when it won’t be noticed, I do what I can to relieve the suffering of the victims. I’m hoping, if I work my way up through the ranks, I might have some influence eventually. I can’t make waves now. Later, maybe. Lord Greyback is really impressed with me so far. He says my magical abilities are very helpful to the pack.”

She looked at this strange, now human-looking monster before her. “That’s an extra-evil type of evil,” she remarked.

“What? I just said I don’t rape, I don’t hunt or eat humans—“

“But you enable those who do. If what you said is true, you’re the only one here who knows better, which in a way makes you even worse than the werewolves who hunt humans like some kind of wild animals. Like, you can’t blame a cat for killing a robin, since the cat is just controlled by its instincts, but a human who thinks about it and then decides to let a pet cat outside? That’s where the blame lies.”

“I don’t have time to criticize your choice of metaphor right now, although believe me I am sorely tempted. We have to think of a way out of our immediate problem.”

“This part of the dream is pretty cool, the ethical conundrum. Which is more evil, the wild animal kind of werewolf or the intelligent enabling kind? The latter, I think. I hope I remember this part when I wake up.”

“Listen to me. They’re expecting blood. We have to come back bloody. I’d offer mine, but it has to be human blood. We can smell the difference. I’m afraid I’ll have to cut you somewhere, like your hand. Then you’ll smear blood where it would be if I had raped you. I’ll make a show of carrying your unconscious, bloody body through camp back to my tent. It shouldn’t be necessary to add any other bodily fluids. We’re so attuned to human blood, that’s all anyone will notice. Then, um, have you had dinner yet? I have some food in my tent.

“That really doesn’t sound like a fun date at all.” 

He buried his face in his hands. “It doesn’t sound very fun to me either. That’s not the point. That’s the only plan I could come up with that gives us both a chance of surviving this night uninjured. Do you have a better idea?”

“You could let me go.”

“And have Lord Greyback think me ungrateful, question my loyalty to him, and kill me. No thank you.”

“You could escape with me.”

“That’s easier said than done. I have nowhere else to go. Besides, a different wizard set up the wards around this camp, so I’d have trouble letting anyone through them.”

“Wizard?”

“Greyback considers me the second-most-trustworthy wizard here. The first is a werewolf who calls himself Whitefang.”

“Isn’t that a heavy metal band?”

“Probably. I wouldn’t know. I’m more into folk. It’s a novel by Jack London, but I don’t think this wizard knows that. He just thought it sounded cool, and it fits his pretensions of being a vicious monster.”

“This dream keeps changing. Are you a werewolf or a wizard?”

“I’m afraid that question can’t be answered without a rather involved foray into semantics, as it depends on whether you’re using the legal or functional definition. I was inarguably a wizard before Greyback bit me, turning me into a werewolf. I like to think of myself as a wizard, but most of my fellow wizards wouldn’t agree. The Ministry of Magic classifies us as beasts, not humans, nor even beings, so legally I’m not a wizard, since a wizard by legal definition is a type of human. I don’t even have such sparse rights as are granted to beings such as merfolk and centaurs. I have no more rights than a doxy or flobberworm, and I definitely have no legal right to use a wand. I’m much better at magic than most of the werewolves here, though, and perhaps better than the average human wizard if I may say so myself. That’s mostly a matter of training and practice. Lord Greyback specializes in biting human children to turn them into werewolves, then raising them to live like animals and hunt humans. He’s lousy at teaching them magic. He’s asked me to teach his pups. The education of these poor kids was seriously neglected until I got here.”

“That sounds fascinating! What kind of magic do you teach?”

“You just listened to me babble about semantics for an unnaturally long time. This must be a trick. You’re trying to postpone the awful task before us.”

“No, I—“

“Would you rather I cut your right or left hand?”

“I’d rather you not. I’d rather wake up from this nightmare.”

“So would I.” He suddenly took her right hand n his left, and moved his wand in a slashing motion at it. “ _Diffindo_.”

It hurt less than she’d thought it would. Extremely sharp blades hurt less than dull ones. Invisible, magical blades apparently hurt less than that. The slash across her palm was dripping blood. 

“I’ll look away,” he said, and did so. “Make it gory.” 

She did. “Done.”

He looked at her again, nodded, and pointed his wand at her hand again. “ _Episkey_.” The cut looked like it had healed a week ago, although her hand was still bloody.

“Doesn’t some of this have to get on you?”

“Damn. You’re right.” He took a deep breath. “Hi!” he said brightly, holding out his hand to shake. “Remus Lupin, werewolf, at your service. I’m not at all pleased to meet you under these particular circumstances.”

She shook his hand with her bloody one. “Sarah Briarcliff. Likewise.”

He looked at his bloody hand. “Right. I’ll, um, just step behind this tree for a moment. Excuse me.” He was back soon, with less blood on his hand. He had a faint smear of blood around his mouth. He did his best to wipe the rest off his hand onto the ground. Then he held his wand in his left hand to point it to his right. “ _Scourgify_ .” His hand was clean. “Shall I do yours?” he offered. When she nodded, he _scourgified_ her hand as well. “Well, that’s one chore off the to-do list. Our next task is for me to parade my violated victim through the gawking crowd, via a boastful, circuitous route, back to my tent. You’ve got the easy acting job, since all you have to do is pretend to be unconscious. Think you can manage?”

This was too weird.

“I could actually knock you unconscious if you prefer. Not by slamming your head against a tree of course, I mean with a spell. You might have a headache when you wake up though.”

“No, you don’t have to do that. I’ll act unconscious. I’ll try, anyway. I feel like I might get the giggles though. This is the weirdest dream ever.” 

“Miss Briarcliff. I don’t know how to impress upon you how extremely serious this situation is. My rapid rise through the ranks in this pack has been noticed by other ambitious werewolves, and is a cause of great envy. They’re watching me closely for any sign of dissent from Lord Greyback’s anti-human agenda. By giving me a human to protect, my task just became harder by an order of magnitude. One mistake and they’ll eat me alive, and I don’t mean that metaphorically. Werewolves are cannibals too. Your death would be slower but more painful than mine. Our acting has to be perfect.”

That was it. The dream was just too ridiculous. She laughed. She couldn’t stop laughing.

He sighed and pointed his wand at her. “ _Stupefy_.”

——-

She woke to the sound of birdsong. She was in a comfortable bed. That was a really weird dream, probably brought on by being in a strange place. She waited for an explanation of her surroundings to click into her mind. She had been hitchhiking back from that festival, picky about which cars she got into, but then she’d been grabbed from behind by people with no car at all, who’d snuck up on her in perfect silence—

“Morning,” said the werewolf. “I got your clothes back for you. You’ll probably want to shower before you get dressed though. I’ve got a sort of camp shower set up here. Sorry, it’s pretty primitive.”

If she didn’t open her eyes, this wasn’t really happening.

“I can tell you’re awake because of how you’re breathing, and I know you’re listening to me because your heartbeat sped up when I spoke. And again just now. I have to get to work soon, but I want to make sure you’re taken care of first. Please open your eyes. This isn’t the sort of muggle tent you might be used to. It requires some explanation.”

She opened her eyes. If this was a tent, it was a large and luxurious one, more like a flat. Morning light shone through the arched green fabric ceiling and walls.

“Bathroom is there,” he said, pointing. “Self-scourgifying bucket in lieu of a toilet, you’ll figure it out. Sink, shower, towels. I happened to have an extra new toothbrush, so it’s yours. Would you like some porridge? Sorry, all I’ve got is powdered milk to go with it. I haven’t been to civilization to restock for a while. I’m out of tea.”

She looked around. Most tents did not include so many bookshelves.

“You’d best just stay here today,” he said. “Help yourself to books. I’ll leave this porridge here on the table. I have to go.” He left. 

It still had to be a dream. It didn’t seem quite as nightmarish at the moment. Nice tent. She was still wearing his shirt. Her thighs were caked with dried blood. The shower took some figuring out, but she got it eventually.

Her clothes had been washed and neatly folded. She thought they’d been ripped off her by clawed hands, but they looked undamaged; another inconsistency of this dream.

The porridge tasted OK. Reconstituted powdered milk was a little odd.

The toothbrush, still in its plastic packaging, was bright yellow and sized for a child.

Here she was, imprisoned in a surprisingly nice tent, in a werewolf encampment. She was bored. It didn’t seem right, but she was.

She looked around. There was a brown suitcase on the floor at the foot of the bed, labeled “Professor R. J. Lupin” in shiny gold letters. It was locked.

There were three large bookshelves. One had familiar books, sorted by the age of the intended audiences. The lowest shelf had very simple board books and alphabet books. The next shelf up had _The Cat in the Hat_ and such. The next shelf had most of _The Chronicles of Narnia_ (lined up in the wrong order), a book on how to play recorder, a book of wacky science experiments, etc. The top shelf had Shakespeare, Jane Austen, Dickens, a book each on starting your own business, car repair, sewing... It was a well-organized but seemingly random assortment.

The second bookshelf was even more confusing. It was organized the same way, but all the books were completely unfamiliar. The alphabet books on the bottom shelf had entries like “H is for hippogriff.”  The next shelf up had storybooks such as _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ and comic books featuring _Martin Miggs the Mad Muggle_ . Next was _Hogwarts, a History_ , and _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ . The top shelf had _The Unauthorized Biography of Celestina Warbeck_ , some novels (She was a beautiful pureblood. He was an honest muggleborn. Would they ever find happiness?), some how-to, such as _Household Hints for the Homemaking Witch_ , and _Quidditch Through the Ages_ , which was just incomprehensible.

The books on the third, smaller bookshelf were all in a different language. Latin?

As a personal book collection, it made no sense. It was all breadth, no depth. He’d wanted a library next to the chocolate shop, she realized. This collection wasn’t for him. It was intended as a library to suit all tastes. 

She was still perusing this strange library hours later when she heard her captor’s voice call from just outside, “Miss Briarcliff? May we come in?”

She froze. She had to say something. “Who’s we?”

“I brought one of my students, Rex.”

“Why are you asking my permission to enter your own tent?”

“I’m teaching Rex how to pretend to be human. This is what humans do, ask before entering. It ties in with today’s lesson on the human concept of consent.”

“I guess you might as well come into your own tent.” She backed away from the door as they entered. The boy was one she’d seen yesterday, the one who wanted to know what a peep show was. He had a mop of sunstreaked strawberry blond curls and a face that was mostly freckles. He was gripping a book in his hand. His blue eyes widened when he saw her. Gold glints sparked in their depths.  “You really have got a human in here!” he exclaimed. “She smells delicious!”

Lupin sighed. “Oh Rex. That is exactly the sort of remark that will identify you as a Dark creature. Plus your eyes were going gold, and I saw fangs starting. Meditate like I taught you, you are stronger than the wolf, turn your eyes back to your human color, yes, very good. It is proper to wait for an introduction before addressing a new acquaintance, and calling someone delicious just isn’t done. It’s best to avoid mentioning smells at all, since we can smell things that humans can’t, and we mustn’t let them know that. Let’s try this again. Miss Briarcliff, this is my student Rex. Rex, this is Miss Briarcliff. ”

“Pleased to meet you,” said Rex.

Sarah stared at him. 

Lupin glanced at Sarah as if he briefly expected her to say she was likewise pleased to meet this young monster, but he quickly looked away from her and back to Rex when he realized the absurdity of this expectation. Rex didn’t seem to be expecting any particular response from her. “Very good!” he said to Rex. “You seemed quite human there. Didn’t he, Miss Briarcliff?”

She nodded dully. 

“Well, let’s get you a book.” 

“Are there more like this?” Rex held up the book he’d brought, _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_.

“I’ll get you the next in the series, _Prince Caspian_.”

“That’s not the next one,” said Sarah. “Next is _The Horse and His Boy_.”

“I’m going by the order in which they were published.”

“They weren’t published in order. The events in the stories line up differently.”

“Part of the beauty of the series is the non-linear way the story unfolds. Reading the story in chronological order spoils the effect.”

“The plot makes more sense when read in chronological order.”

“There’s a lot more to appreciating literature than just understanding the plot.”

Rex was following this discussion raptly, his eyes wide, and currently blue. Finally, he could stay silent no longer. “She’s defying you!” he exclaimed. “You’re really high ranking, practically everyone has to submit to you, but she’s being insubordinate! Why aren’t you biting her?”

Lupin sighed again. “I know how to act like a werewolf. That’s not my goal here. I’m demonstrating how to act like a human. Pay attention. Even humans of vastly different ranks can disagree without biting each other. Underlings sometimes have very good ideas, and a leader who automatically dismisses those ideas is a fool.”

The boy gasped. “You’re saying Lord Greyback—“

“I’m demonstrating how humans handle disagreements. That’s what Lord Greyback ordered me to do, teach his pups how to pretend to be human. I’m obeying his order.”

Rex nodded uncertainty.

“Let’s get you the next book in the series, which is either _Prince Caspian_ or _The Horse and His Boy_ , depending on whom you ask. There are legitimate arguments for either.” He held both books out to Rex.

Rex looked at both books uncertainly. “You said this one?” he asked, pointing to _Prince Caspian_.

“Yes, but you may choose either. I really wouldn’t mind.”

Rex took _Prince Caspian_.

“Enjoy it,” said Lupin.

Rex nervously inched backwards towards the exit.

“You may go,” said Lupin. “After!” he’d caught the boy’s wrist in his hand as he bolted. “You take your leave of Miss Briarcliff.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Briarcliff,” he said. Then he looked at Lupin and added, “I’m going to have my own human someday, just like you.” Lupin let him go and he was gone like a shot.

“Thank you,” Lupin said. “Would you like some lunch? You wouldn’t like what’s being served in the main eating area, and I don't want it either. Your presence here at least gives me an excuse to come back here for lunch, as I told them I had to tend to my human. I’m afraid I don’t have much to offer. I could open some tins of beans, corn, and tomatoes, call it a vegetarian chili.”

“Whatever.”

He set two bowls of hot chili and glasses of water on the small table, with some mismatched spoons and worn fabric napkins.

“I’m very sorry I can’t offer you anything better. I do plan to go shopping as soon as I’m allowed out.” 

“The food’s fine. It isn’t the problem.”

“I know. I’m sorry.

They ate in awkward silence for a while. “Thank you again for helping with Rex,” he finally said. “These kids need to see how it’s possible to peacefully disagree, and I can’t demonstrate that by myself. That couldn’t have gone better if we’d planned it in advance.” 

“So thanks to me, he’ll be better at pretending to be human.” 

“Yes.” 

“So he’ll be better at hunting us. That’s the service you perform for Greyback, you train his werewolves to better hunt humans. You’re good at it. That’s why he rewarded you with me.” 

Lupin didn’t answer. He wasn’t eating either. He was taking slow, steady breaths. He’s meditating to stop his eyes from going gold and his fangs from growing, she realized. He’s working hard on not biting me. It’s not safe to push this. 

“Those seem like young books for a teenager,” Sarah tried. 

Lupin’s brown eyes smiled at her in gratitude for the change of subject. “He could barely read when I first arrived here. He’s made enormous improvements. I’m very proud of him.” He refilled her water glass with, impossibly, that stick from his sleeve. It didn’t seem sanitary to use the same tool he’d used to cut her hand for this. She drank, for her mouth felt dry. “Have you had enough lunch?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He hurriedly gulped the last of the food from his own bowl and hers, then washed the bowls by waving his stick at them and saying “ _Scourgify_.” He put them away, then grabbed one of the Latin books off the shelf. “I’ve got to go. I teach human culture in the mornings and magic in the afternoons, plus whatever odd jobs Greyback has for me, so I’m pretty busy.”

“You’re going to teach magic?”

“I should be done by dinner time. Sorry you’ll be bored here, but I really don’t recommend going outside to interact with the other werewolves without me. At least you have books. Sorry this collection is so small. See you later.” He left. 

She needed a plan. She couldn’t sit around reading a book on broom maintenance. She had to escape. She had to warn people that there was a pack of werewolves… OK, while a mental hospital might be better than this, she’d still be trapped. So, she’d escape and say nothing.

So, that was the overall plan. There were still details to work out, such as how to get through a camp crowded with super-strong, super-hearing, super-smelling, fanged, magic-using werewolves. And then, if what Lupin had said was true, a magical barrier that even he couldn’t get through. 

Impossible. It was impossible.

She needed a plan B. Signal for help? Smoke? That would surely attract attention, mostly of the werewolves in her immediate vicinity, very quickly.

Was this particular situation really so bad? Her captor seemed nice enough—

No. She would not succumb to that sort of thinking. Her captor was the most evil werewolf here. He was the one teaching the others how to better hunt humans. Despite his affectations of civility, he was worse than Greyback. 

And here he was now, at the door of his tent. “Miss Briarcliff? May I come in?

“It’s your tent.”

He entered.

“One of my students brought me a rabbit,” he said. “And I found some wild onions. I’ll cook them for dinner.”

“Thanks, that sounds tasty.” She’d have to kill him in his sleep. The others would kill her afterwards, but at least she’d die a hero. She’d sacrifice her life for the greater good.

Maybe dying in this dream would finally wake her.


	2. Chapter 2

Dinner of rabbit and wild onions was tasty. She ate in silence.

“Miss Briarcliff,” he started, then stopped.

“Mr. Lupin.” She had to lull him into trusting her. That would make him easier to kill. She had to look him in the eyes. She had to talk to him. She had to smile at him. She’d never resolved to kill anyone before, and was having trouble smiling at all.

“If there is anything at all I can do, within these unfortunate constraints of course, that would make your stay here more comfortable, please let me know.”

“I could use a sharp knife to cut this meat.”

“Oh, I’ll cut that for you. _Diffindo_.” He waved his stick at her plate. The meat was neatly cut.

“Thank you.” What to try next? “That stick is pretty cool.”

“Stick?” He laughed. “Oh, you mean my wand.”

“Could I get one of those?”

He handed it to her. He handed her his wand!

“Sorry, it won’t work for you. You’re a muggle. That’s a human born without magical ability. Most humans are muggles. Muggles don’t usually survive a werewolf bite, so most of the werewolves here started as witches and wizards. They can at least in principle do magic, although most are untrained.” 

The stick just felt like a stick.

“Feel free to try a spell if you want. Here’s a simple one I teach all the magical children here. May I have my wand back? _Lumos_.” The wand glowed like a flashlight. He handed it back to her. The light went out as soon as it left his fingers.

“Lumos,” she said, feeling stupid.

“Fine pronunciation, fine grip, no magical ability. Sorry. We all have different talents.” He took his wand back. “Please tell me about yourself.” 

“No.”

He was silent for a while. “That’s understandable.” Then, “Are you done with dinner?”

“Yes.”

He cleared the table and washed the dishes. “I generally exercise before bed,” he said. “Feral werewolves consider physical strength to be very important, so I had to develop these ridiculous muscles like a cartoon supervillain. They take some effort to maintain.”

Sarah couldn’t help but laugh. She didn’t want to. She didn’t want the monster she was going to slay to have a sense of humor.

“You haven’t been outside today,” he said. “You could walk with me for some fresh air if you like. I’ll find someplace outside this tent to get sweaty, while you watch the sunset or something. That would require acting on both our parts, though, walking through the encampment. Or you could stay here.”

“I’ll stay here.”

“As you wish.” He left again.

She read a chapter on how to remove an infestation of doxies from curtains. She had no idea what doxies were. She threw the book across the tent. It bounced off the fabric wall. She picked it up and put it back on the shelf. There were no weapons here. There was no mirror in the bathroom to provide broken glass. There were no knives in the little kitchen area. There was a thin pillow on her bed, but she doubted that it would be useful to smother anyone. Could she strangle him with her shoelaces? That seemed her best bet. He looked awfully strong. He’d fight back.

He returned quite a while later. “Miss Briarcliff? May I come in?”

“It’s your tent.”

He came in. “I need a shower. Excuse me.” He later emerged from the bathroom wearing grey pajamas. He waved his wand and muttered strange incantations around a blanket on the floor. Then he said “Goodnight,” and lay down on the blanket, pulled another blanket over himself, and closed his eyes.

Of course he put protective spells around his bed, or the spot on the floor where he slept, anyway, as he’d apparently given his bed to her. He wasn’t going to just let her murder him in his sleep.

The last dregs of sunlight faded from the walls of the tent. There was no moonlight.

She wasn’t tired. She’d been sitting around all day, and was itching with unspent energy. She had to use that energy to kill him, to escape, to do something, but there was nothing to be done.

She watched her captor silently sleeping, as the tent grew darker and darker. Could she crush his skull with a big rock, if she had one?

She must have fallen asleep eventually, because she woke up in the morning. Her captor served her porridge

“Do you want to stay in the tent today, or accompany me as I teach? The first option would be boring, and the second stressful.”

“Just being stuck in this tent all day is stressful.”

“I know what you mean.”

She pointed to his suitcase and asked, “What were you a professor of, before you got bitten? Latin?”

He looked confused for a moment, then laughed. “Oh! Sorry, that does give the wrong impression of me, doesn’t it? That was a gag gift from some friends of mine. It was a practical gift too. It holds a lot. I’ve always lived out of my trunk or suitcase, and my old one was wearing out. They always said I spoke like a professor, so they stuck that label on it as a joke. I was never really a professor of course.”

“Well, you are one now.”

“What? Werewolves can’t be professors.”

“You’re setting yourself up for a semantic argument in which we contrast the legal and functional definitions of the word ‘professor.’” 

He laughed.

“So what did you do before you came here?”

He looked rather shifty-eyed. “Scavenged, mostly. I tried a few jobs in the wizarding world, but always had to leave when people started to get suspicious of my pattern of monthly absences and injuries. I had some close calls with the Werewolf Capture Unit. I tried a few jobs in the muggle world, but I have no credentials that mean anything there, so the sorts of jobs I could get were the kind that weren’t very forgiving of so many unexplained sick days, and they didn’t even pay enough to cover healing potions for my wolf-related injuries.”

“But what did you do before you were a werewolf?”

“What? Oh. Toddled. Played with blocks, I suppose. Greyback bit me when I was four.”

The explanation that had been forming in Sarah’s brain for her captor’s various oddly-non-werewolf-like traits disintegrated.

“I went to a playground,” he said suddenly. “I remember that, or at least I remember remembering that. I remember missing it more than I remember the playground itself. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t go outside anymore. My poor mother had to cope with so many tantrums over that, and the tantrums of a young werewolf, well. They confirmed for her why it was so important I not be allowed out in public anymore, I’m sure. I don’t think I really developed mastery over the wolf, so I could be absolutely sure I could maintain a consistent human appearance, until I was ten.” He thought some more. “And I must have had friends, because I remember missing them, but I don’t remember anything about them.”

He looked around the tent. “You have my sympathy,” he said. “I know what it’s like to be trapped in a small space, with death awaiting you outside if you let your mask slip. At least you have books. I brought some of my favorites.” He ran an affectionate hand over one of his bookcases. His hand paused over H.G. Wells’s _The Time Machine_. “They’re such a wonderful escape. I imagined if I had a time machine, I could change things so my parents never met.” He dropped his hand away from the book. “Wouldn’t work of course,” he said with a rueful smile. “Paradox. But a boy can dream.

“So anyway, what would you like to do today? Besides escape of course, which unfortunately is not on the menu.”

“I’ll come out with you.” There weren’t any murder weapons in here. She might find some outside.

He nodded. “I’m afraid you’ll be stared at by very many curious werewolves. Fortunately, my rank means I can declare you my property, and forbid any werewolves of lower rank from getting too close to you. The tricky part will be the acting. We have to give the impression that I’m a brutal monster. You need to act traumatized. If Greyback learns the truth, I’m dead, and you arguably even worse off.”

He wanted her to _pretend_ to be upset about being abducted by werewolves? He wanted her to _pretend_ that he was a monster, not a nice guy? That wasn’t acting, that was honesty.

If she didn’t “pretend” according to his specifications, the other werewolves would kill her captor. She realized she’d been thinking about this completely the wrong way. She’d been thinking of weapons like knives and rocks, but she had much more dangerous weapons all around her: werewolves. She’d kill him with werewolves. Bad acting, as he defined it, would arouse suspicion of his loyalty. Greyback and his pack would kill her captor for her.

Then they’d kill her of course, or make her life a living hell. But it would be for the greater good.

“Going outside is a cheering prospect, isn’t it ,” he said with some surprise at her expression, and smiling with her. “It’s a beautiful spring day. It will be nice to get out of this tent. Take a moment to compose yourself. Tears aren’t absolutely required. A blank, catatonic look would be fine. Bursts of hysteria might also be believable, although then I’d have to act like a monster to quiet you, which is work I’d rather not do. If I could convince everyone that you’re acting normal because I ordered you to demonstrate normal human behavior for my students, that would be easiest, but we’d best ease into that.” He looked contemplative. “Lord Greyback could probably be convinced that you’re happily submitting to me because the natural order of things ranks werewolves above humans. It would take time to develop the appearance of such a relationship, though. Let’s keep it simple today.”

“OK.” She made her face blank. She’d have to think about how exactly to go about this. It would seem odd for her to run to Greyback to report that her designated rapist was too nice.

Everyone stared at her as they walked through the encampment, but no one tried to touch or talk to her. Everyone stepped aside as Lupin walked, clearing a path for them. They finally got to a pleasant spot in the woods where logs had been arranged in rows. About thirty kids of various ages frolicked around the area, playing some combination of tag, wrestling, and play-biting, but settled down and sat on the logs as they approached. Their clothes were dirty and ragged, their hair unkempt, their eyes bright.

“Good morning class,” said her captor.

“Good morning Professor Lupin,” the kids chorused. They seemed distracted. They were trying to look at Lupin, but their gazes kept returning to her. 

“Of course, you have noticed that I brought a human to class today. This is Miss Briarcliff.”

“Good morning,” she said nervously.

“Good morning Miss…” chorused a few students, but they looked around and stopped when they realized no one else was doing it. 

“Very good!” said her captor. “Tim, Angelique, Veronica, and Rex, that was truly convincing human-like behavior. Let’s all emulate them. Ready? Good morning Miss Briarcliff.” This time all the kids said it. “Excellent. As this is a class on how to pass as human, I thought this would be a good opportunity to practice simply being in the presence of a human without giving yourselves away as werewolves. There will be no sniffing, no drooling, no growling, no golden eyes, no fangs, and so on. Not even any hungry staring. As I am the teacher, you may look at me, or you may whisper to your friends, or surreptitiously pass notes to them about subjects of interest to humans. For today’s class, let us pretend that Miss Briarcliff is visiting from the Board of Governors to evaluate my teaching.”

“I need a clipboard,” said Sarah.

Her captor looked at her, started. “Right,” he said. He looked around, and found a broken branch and some dead leaves. He pointed his wand at them with a look of intense concentration. They reformed into a not-quite-rectilinear clipboard and some sheets of coarse off-white paper, which he handed to her. The students made impressed sounds. “I don’t think that would get high marks from my Transfiguration teacher, but I hope it serves your purpose.”

“I need a pen, too.”

“Right.” He made one from a stick. It worked, although the ink was dark brown.

She wrote, “Classroom lacks supplies.”

“I’ll start today’s class by reading a book that’s a favorite of mine, _Yertle_ _the_ _Turtle_ , by Dr. Seuss,” said the evil werewolf. And he did. He read it aloud, enthusiastically. The kids loved it.  He did a very good impression of King Yertle reveling in his high throne: “I rule from the clouds! Over land! Over sea! There's nothing, no, NOTHING, that's higher than me!"

When the moon rose over King Yertle, the evil werewolf did a remarkably good impression of blustering through his fear, declaring his ambition to stack more of his subjects under himself to build his throne higher than the moon. The kids snickered at his hubris, knowing that the moon rules over all. They leaned forward on their log seats, eager for the King’s downfall.

“And that plain little Mack did a plain little thing. He burped! And his burp shook the throne of the king!”

The class went wild. Kids who could burp at will did so, to the delight of their peers. The absolutely, totally, definitely evil werewolf sat back and enjoyed the chaos of laughing children. His indulgent smile showed his slightly crooked human teeth.

The kids shushed each other so they could hear the rest of the story.

“And the turtles, of course... all the turtles are free  
As turtles and, maybe, all creatures should be.” The werewolf, who was completely evil, really, took a slight bow to acknowledge the children’s cheers and applause.

“If anyone wishes to borrow this book, it will be on the shelf at your next library day,” he promised. “Of course, particularly good students get extra library days, so I hope you’re all working hard on your individual projects.

“Moving on, this book leads to today’s lesson on various forms of government. Now, although Dr. Seuss calls these characters turtles, they clearly symbolize the humans for whom he wrote. The turtles in this book are ruled by a king with absolute power. This type of system, in which one person has all the power, is called a dictatorship. This ties in with yesterday’s lesson on the human concept of consent. Show of hands: who thinks Mack consented to being part of Yertle’s throne?” No hands went up. “And who thinks Mack didn’t consent to this?” All hands went up. “Exactly. This book is an argument against dictatorships and for individual, human rights. Humans, it is generally believed these days, have the right to be free from oppression. By contrast, it is universally agreed by both humans and werewolves that werewolves have no individual rights at all. Each werewolf exists only to serve the needs of the pack, as determined by the pack leader. It’s quite a difficult task to incorporate this mindset into your human persona, to think of yourself as having human rights, but it’s essential to be truly convincing.

“Learning facts and vocabulary is easier. There are different types of dictatorships. Yertle is a king, so this book gives an example of a monarchy, or a monarchic dictatorship. In a monarchy, authority to rule is passed down from parent to child. A more familiar example of a dictatorship, of course, is this werewolf pack, which is ruled by one dictator, who attains his position by fighting skill, as demonstrated in a duel.”

A girl with dark brown hair shot her hand up

“Yes Angelique? You have a question?”

“Are there other ways of organizing werewolf packs?”

Her captor was silent for a little while. Then, “Lord Greyback ordered me to teach you how to pass as humans, so teaching werewolf culture is off-topic, and I shouldn’t have mentioned werewolf pack structure at all. Sorry.” He glanced sideways at Sarah. “I hope the Board of Governors doesn’t get word of my mistake. Returning to the subject of human governments, there are also other types of monarchies. The government of muggle Britain is a constitutional monarchy. We have a royal family, but they’re largely symbolic. Our actual rulers are chosen by vote, and they rule with the consent of the governed. When voters tire of their rulers, they vote them out of office. Your human persona may support the monarchy as a beautiful tradition, or scorn it as a waste of taxpayer money, whichever you prefer. Grumblings that it’s time to fire our elected leaders and replace them with different ones are always appropriate.

“Dr. Seuss is giving a stereotypically human viewpoint here, criticizing dictatorships, saying that rulers should govern only with the consent of the governed. To pass as human, in this country at least, you must be very familiar with this concept, so we’ll be playing at various forms of government in this class over the next few days.” He drew his wand. “First let’s form a dictatorship. This form of government actually used to be quite common in Europe even among humans, and is still practiced in some countries. We will do just a brief review of this form of government, as it’s the one with which we are most familiar.” With a delicate flick, a large iridescent bubble appeared at the tip of his wand, then floated over the children. “Whoever catches this bubble will be our king or queen.” Pandemonium broke out again. The winner was not the tallest child, but the one who was fastest at climbing up the tallest child. He held the bubble, amazingly unpopped, in his hands, and a look of intense pride on his face.

“Jason is our king,” announced Lupin. “So to start the game at least, we must do whatever he says.”

Jason had a huge grin on his face. “Everyone must submit to me!”

Moving as one, everyone, even her captor, her designated rapist, the absolutely evil werewolf, oh all right, the teacher, dropped to the ground and rolled to face the treetops, arching their necks to expose them to their smiling king. Sarah wondered if she should play along. King Jason glanced at her, but quickly looked away. She clearly was out of the game. She felt a little disappointed. She just sat there clutching her clipboard.

“You may rise,” said King Jason. Everyone got up.

“I command that everyone must… waddle like a duck!” 

Jason was quite a popular king, beloved by his subjects. Sadly, of course, power corrupts. “Hey, a king should have better clothes than this,” he eventually realized. His clothes were rags dark with dirt and possibly dried blood. He looked around. “You! Tim! Give me your shirt!” 

Tim’s shirt was in much better shape than Jason’s. He looked down at it sadly, then started to take it off.

“Time out,” called Professor Lupin. “Let’s think like humans here. Just like Mack, we’re encountering the problem that dictators often demand that we do things we don’t actually want to do. So let us practice defying a dictator, just like we practiced saying no in yesterday’s consent lesson. Sorry, Jason, you’ll no longer get to enjoy your subjects obeying you, but you will at least get to enjoy making up ridiculous demands for them to say no to. Tim, if you don’t want to give him your shirt, you don’t have to. Pretend you’re human. Stand up for your human right to be free of oppression by dictators. Say no.”

“No!” shouted Tim happily.

“Hey!” complained Jason. He looked around. Rex was the biggest teen there. “Rex, I order you to take Tim’s shirt for me.”

“I don’t want to,” said Rex.

Jason sighed, and was silent for a while. Then, “Tim, I forbid you from giving me your shirt!”

Everyone laughed.

“Now you’re gaming the system,” laughed Professor Lupin. “Which is a very important skill. I think we get the point here. Let’s make this game more challenging. It’s easy to say no to Jason, your peer. For more of a challenge… _Accio_ bubble!” The iridescent bubble zoomed from Jason’s hands to Lupin’s. He held it out pompously. “I declare myself King Lupin! I rule from the clouds! Over land! Over sea! There's nothing, no, NOTHING, that's higher than me! I do happen to be the tallest one here,” he added in a much more modest voice. “And you’re used to seeing me as your teacher, in a position of authority. It will be much more difficult to say no to me than to a peer. If anyone is having trouble, just remember that this is all a game, just like yesterday’s consent game, although it is good practice for real situations. Ready? I’m about to order you to do something, but instead of doing it, you are to say ‘no.’ Now, cluck like chickens!”

The entire class clucked like a loud flock of chickens.

“Maybe I didn’t explain properly,” Lupin said, laughing.

“But we wanted to cluck like chickens!” shouted one kid.

“It was fun!”

“And besides, you told us you didn’t want us to really do it, so by actually doing it, we were defying your authority as our teacher,” said one kid proudly.

“I see that I’ve been outfoxed by a flock of chickens,” he admitted, laughing. “Well done. All right, that was so ridiculous I think everyone’s earned an extra library day.”

The children let out a huge cheer.

“This also seems like a good time for a recess,” announced Lupin. “Burn off that energy.” He tossed the bubble into the mob for the kids to fight over.

Some kids fought over the bubble, while others played what they called “the turtle game.” They eventually selected Jason as a lightweight Yertle and formed a pyramid to try to get him up to the moon.

“Of course, don’t actually—“ started Lupin, but it was too late. Jason screamed as he got thrown off the top of the pyramid.

He didn’t hit the ground, just hovered a few inches above it. Professor Lupin was pointing his wand at him. With a gentle gesture of his wand, Jason drifted down the last few inches. Then Lupin ran to him. “Are you hurt?

The fact that these were not human children, but werewolves, became very apparent. Jason snarled and snapped his fangs at his teacher. 

“You’re angry they threw you off,” said Lupin. “They shouldn’t have done that. They could have hurt you.”

Jason growled and tried to charge at the other children, fangs and claws reaching for them, but Lupin caught him. “My students are not allowed to hurt each other. I will deal with them later. This is a bigger problem. You need to control your wolf. Breathe like I taught you.”

The young werewolf snarled.

“I know it’s difficult. The wolf can be very hard to control. But you can do it, Jason. You are stronger than the wolf.” 

Growl and struggle.

“You are stronger than the wolf.”

Growl.

“Breathe with me.”

“But Lord Greyback says—“

“You are stronger than the wolf. Except at the full moon, you are stronger than the wolf. Lord Greyback has allowed his humanity to grow weak, so the wolf rules him all the time. This weakness is not to be mistaken for evidence of the wolf’s strength. Yes, you’ve got it,” for the kid seemed human again. “I knew you could do it.” His secure grip on the dangerous young werewolf had turned to a hug for the upset child. “Well done.” He handed the boy a handkerchief.

Then Professor Lupin, looking quite stern, turned to address the kids who’d thrown Jason off his throne. “I do not allow any form of violence in my class. Patricia, Nathan, John, Elizabeth, I take back your extra library day. Instead, you must write an essay on the importance of respecting your classmates. Take care that you do this as a human child would, so writing this essay does not elicit any actual remorse from you, but only resentment of me and possibly also of Jason for getting you in trouble. I will expect your essays by Thursday. Jason, if you don’t find this punishment sufficient for the crime, you may retaliate with some sort of human-style prank, which I will ignore as long as you’re reasonably discreet about it. Let me know if you’d like any suggestions. You may ask your classmates for help. Now carry on with your playing. You have ten more minutes of recess.”

The kids resumed their play, playing turtle with more care, scrambling for the unpoppable bubble, and also picking sides for Jason’s planned revenge.

Suddenly, a girl squealed, “Lord Greyback is coming!”

Instantly, all the kids, and Lupin, dropped to the ground and rolled onto their backs, just as they had done for King Jason. “Submit to the pack leader,” Lupin hissed at Sarah. “We must all make ourselves vulnerable to him.” 

When in Rome. She imitated the werewolves.

She turned her head to see the massive, grizzled werewolf approach. Lupin looked like a pencil-necked geek in comparison. Greyback looked around approvingly, then knelt over Sarah. He raked his claws over her throat in a casual way, then ran his claws down her chest, snagging on her shirt. He then pulled up her shirt so he could run his sharp claws over her bare belly. She broke into a sweat and stifled a scream. Adrenaline was no use to her in this situation, but there was no stopping it from flooding her bloodstream.

“Good morning Lupin,” he said. “You may sit up to talk to me, no higher than me of course.”

One of the kids had a sudden fit of giggles, but was silenced by another kid flopping on top of him.

“Good morning, my lord.”

Sarah jerked when a claw snagged in her navel.

“Hold your bitch still for me,” requested Greyback.

Lupin put his rough hands around her neck and held her down. His eyes looked dead.

“My pups sounded happy and I smelled the human, so I thought I’d come enjoy watching whatever they were doing to her,” said Greyback cheerfully. “You may all rise and resume your play!” he called to the students. “I love to see my pups happy.” The students got up, and some resumed their games, but many simply listened to their pack leader and teacher converse. “How are you liking this human?” 

“She is most satisfactory, my lord. Thank you again.” His hands were sweaty on her throat.

“She doesn’t seem injured.”

“I thought it would be more fun to break her will by psychological methods, my lord. And I need to keep practicing my skills at deception, so I’m working on convincing her that I’m actually a human disguised as a werewolf, rather than the other way around. If she seems to trust me, you’ll know my deception is successful.”

Greyback laughed. “Didn’t you just ruin your plan by telling me about it in her earshot?”

“That’s the beauty of it, my lord. I’ll convince her I was just doing what I had to do to maintain my werewolf disguise to keep you fooled.” 

Greyback laughed. “You’re such a good liar.”

He smiled modestly. “Thank you, my lord. I try.”

Greyback laughed again and shook his head. “You’re twisted, Lupin. It seems unnatural to fuck a bitch who isn’t trying to fight back. To each his own, I suppose. And you even found a way to use her in class?”

“Yes, my lord. We need to acclimate the pups to humans. Their disguises have been improving—“

“I’ve noticed that.”

“But their disguises falter, and the wolf visibly surfaces, when they smell humans. This is a great disadvantage when hunting, as it warns the prey, possibly giving them time to escape. They need to be able to pass as humans to gain their trust and get close enough to ambush them, so they need to hide the wolf even when they sense that prey is near.”

“I see. And then are you having them practice attacking her?”

“That would be a trivial exercise, my lord, and also risk damaging my property, as I’m sure any one of them could kill her if they let their wolf-selves loose so close to prey,” said the abso-fucking-lutely evil werewolf.

“Seems like a good use of resources,” said Greyback. He sat, enjoying the sight of playing children and the feel of a terrified human under his claws, then remarked, “Dumbledore never gave you any girls, did he?”

“No my lord. It would never have occurred to him.”

“That human fool knows nothing about how to ensure loyalty.”

“Yes, my lord. Even many humans call him mad. He seemed to think I’d be grateful for the honor of being locked in his shack.”

Greyback growled. “It’s criminal what he did to you. I’ve never seen a werewolf so scarred. You should have had a happy puphood, like this. I’m sorry son, I should have tried harder to track you down and rescue you, but I assumed you must be dead. I didn’t think any werewolf could survive that. I’m proud of you for still having the spirit to escape after the hell he put you through. Years in essentially a cage, isolated from your own kind! Horrific. But you couldn’t be tamed.”

“There is no need to apologize for that, my lord. Stealing what Dumbledore considers his property is not a trivial matter. I am grateful for the sanctuary you now provide me.”

“Don’t worry son,” said Greyback, patting Lupin’s shoulder in a friendly way with the hand that wasn’t poised to eviscerate Sarah. “If Dumbledore tries to get his pet werewolf back, he’ll have to go through me first.”

“Thank you, sire. Mere words cannot express my gratitude for all you’ve done for me.”

Greyback laughed. “You’re never at a loss for words, Lupin. That’s the only consolation, that your suffering wasn’t totally in vain. We’re using Dumbledore’s crime against you as a weapon against him. Just think of it! An army of werewolves as good at passing for human as you are! We’ll be invincible.”

“Yes my lord.”

“Well, you may rise and resume your class.”

“Thank you my lord.”

They did so, Sarah a little shakily, as Greyback left. She could still feel his claws on her, and Lupin’s hands on her neck. Her neck felt cold as sweat evaporated from her skin. She declined Lupin’s offer of a hand up.

As her captor got up, he let out a small burp. “Excuse me.”

Pandemonium broke out. Everyone who could was burping, and many kids were also trying to climb on top of each other.

A smaller subset of the kids gathered around Lupin. “Who’s Dumbledore?” demanded Rex. “Tell me what he looks like so I can kill him.”

“Oh Rex,” sighed Lupin. “Believe me, many have already tried. Albus Dumbledore is probably the most powerful wizard alive today. He’s famous for defeating another extremely powerful wizard named Gellert Grindelwald. I’m afraid you wouldn’t stand a chance against him.” 

“I’ve got to try. Where is he?”

“With a reputation like his, he can have any job he wants, and he’s chosen to be headmaster of Hogwarts, Britain’s school of witchcraft and wizardry.”

“Why?”

“Well, if one really wants to change society, the minds of the next generation…” He trailed off. “Who can fathom the schemes of an old wizard? Many say he’s mad.”

“What did he do to you?” demanded a little girl.

The evil werewolf took a slow breath. “Some things are perhaps too disturbing for young ears to hear.

“Tell us!” they demanded. The kids who’d been playing stopped their games and gathered around to hear the story.

“Well. First you have to understand that I had a rather unusual puphood. Lord Greyback gifted me with lycanthropy when I was four, around the same age that most of you were bitten, but then he couldn’t take me home to my pack.”

The children gasped, horrified and outraged. “He didn’t? Why not?”

“Understand that our Lord Greyback loves all his pups, and would never abandon us to humans if he could help it, but this was a very unusual situation. My human father is an exterminator, specializing in Dark creatures such as werewolves, so he had enough training and experience to fight off our lord when he tried to rescue me.”

“I’ll kill him!” shouted one of the kids, soon joined by others.

“I don’t advise going against a wizard who has devoted his life to killing werewolves.”

“But why did he want to keep you?” demanded a little girl. “My parents didn’t want to keep me.”

“Nor mine.” 

“Nor mine,” the kids chimed in.

“Again, this was a very unusual situation. My mother was a muggle who knew nothing of magic until she met my father. Even after they married, she never felt any need to learn about werewolves. When I was bitten, my father tried to tell her that her human son was dead, but she didn’t believe him. She didn’t want to believe.”

The children laughed at this muggle’s foolishness.

“She thought that if she just worked hard enough, she could keep me human. She actually convinced my father to try it. Of course, they also had the additional challenge of hiding me from the world at large, because despite their delusion that I was still human, they knew that any witch or wizard would recognize me for what I truly was if they dared bring me out in public.

“So there I was, a werewolf isolated from my own kind, trapped in a house with a delusional muggle and a wizard who came home every day with cheerful stories of how many werewolves he’d killed. I had no choice but to pretend that I was what they believed I was, their human son. I became quite adept at concealing my wolffish self beneath a human facade. I had them convinced, which wasn’t that hard, as they were desperate to believe it. By the time I was ten, I was so good at the deception that I could even convince others. The only problem, of course, was during full moons.”

The children were rapt. Sarah had curled herself into a protective ball.

“None of you have ever had the misfortune to suffer a transformation alone,” her captor said. “Our instincts are to hunt with our pack. Instead, I was locked in a basement, alone. I could smell humans, but couldn’t reach them. I…” He gulped. He was having trouble talking, but he pulled himself together and continued. “Perhaps I should just show you.” He rolled up one sleeve to show his horribly scarred arm. “Without access to humans, or the company of my own kind, I attacked myself. As I grew older and stronger, my injuries got worse every month. The teeth and claws of Dark creatures like us leave permanent scars, only partially healable by magic. My human parents weren’t healers, but they did what they could to keep me alive. Except, of course, letting me go to join my pack.

“Even through their delusion, they knew that keeping me locked in their basement wasn’t sustainable. Eventually, my injuries would be beyond the help of their sparse healing powers. Then, when I was eleven, Dumbledore arrived. I have no idea how he knew about me, or even how he managed to enter the house, as my human father tried to keep him out. He offered to take me off my human parents’ hands. They had reservations, but they couldn’t really say no to the most powerful wizard in the world. Then my troubles really began.

“Dumbledore has a taste for unusual pets. He already had a phoenix and a half-giant in his collection, and wanted to add a werewolf. Perhaps his defeat of Grindelwald in his youth gave him an exaggerated impression of his own powers. He was delusional enough to believe that he could actually tame a werewolf to keep as a pet.

“He employs a healer who is quite capable. At Dumbledore’s command, she’d lock me in a shack every evening before a full moon, and every morning after, she’d return and heal my injuries. Then next month she’d lock me in the shack again, knowing perfectly well what I would suffer there. If I were human, I’m sure this would have gone against her healer’s oath, but of course it doesn’t apply to werewolves. My injuries got worse as I grew older and stronger.

“Dumbledore kept me captive for seven years, from age eleven to eighteen. I let him think me had broken my will, he had tamed me. He thought he had done what others called impossible, he had mastered a Dark creature. He was quite proud. He had me do all sorts of human-style tricks on command. He trained me to blend in perfectly in wizarding society, except during full moons of course. Then, once I was eighteen, and he was preparing to finally show off his pet werewolf to the world as proof of his superior wizarding skill and educational prowess, and bring glory to his school, I escaped.”

“You outsmarted the most powerful wizard in the world?” asked one child, amazed.

“He’s human. Humans are very good at deluding themselves. They believe what they want to believe. And I’m an expert liar, if I may say so myself.”

“That’s proving very useful to you now,” said Rex.

“Excuse me?” Lupin said.

“So you can teach us how to lie like you.”

“Oh. Yes, of course. You’re all proving to be excellent students. Anyway, once I escaped Dumbledore’s clutches, it took me over a year to finally find my pack and come home. I’m glad the unique skill set I acquired during my captivity is of use to my pack.

“I’m sorry we departed so far from my lesson plan today. I'm afraid there’s no time for book report presentations, so those will have to wait until tomorrow. We’ll reconvene for Magic class after lunch. See you then.” He nodded to Sarah and led her back to his tent, past hungrily-staring golden-eyed werewolves. The difference between them and Lupin’s students was remarkable.

He started opening some tins for lunch. He didn’t have a tin opener, he just used his wand. “If Greyback’s going to barge into my class like that, he really should be carrying a clipboard,” he complained. “How is he going to report on my teaching to the Board of Governors without filling out the proper forms?” When she didn’t laugh, he added, “Sorry.” He said that a lot. As supervillain catchphrases went, it wasn’t a very good one. “I shouldn’t be joking.  It would be pointless for me to ask if you’re all right after that.” He put food and water in front of her. “That obviously wasn’t all right.”

She stared at the food, although it made her queasy, because if she looked at him instead, she saw his perfectly human-looking brown eyes gazing at her with apparent concern and sympathy. Damn he was good. He acted so human. He’d almost had her fooled. Almost. Wasn’t it bad enough to be held captive by a magic-using werewolf? Why did he also have to be a psychopath? It would be impossible for him not to be after a childhood like that.

“Sorry to spring that idea on you, that I’m pretending to be human around you to keep in practice at deception. It’s perfect, really. Now no matter how you act, whether you act like you trust me or not, it all supports the same story, that I’m loyal to Greyback. This should make this much easier for you.”

“Thanks.” He’d just destroyed her plan to murder him, and made it seem like he was doing her a favor. 

He had quite a proud smile on. “I’ve had a lot of practice coming up with excuses on the fly. I did that a lot for seven years.”

“I’m sorry for what those humans did to you,” she tried, although she knew it wouldn’t do any good. Too little, too late.

He laughed at her. “It wasn’t as bad as all that, I just had to tell a good story to impress my students. They’ll tell everyone in camp, and their story has to match what I told Greyback when I first arrived here. Actually—“ He seemed to finally notice that she wasn’t acting as delighted as he was. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be talking about myself, getting nostalgic about my school years when you just suffered through another assault by Greyback. He has no right to touch you like that. When humans aren’t sufficiently submissive to him, thinks it’s funny to suddenly rip their throats out after first threatening to disembowel them, so I did what I could to protect your neck, but… I wish I could have stopped him today, well, every day really. There’s no need for you of all people to feel sorry for me.”

“You’re such a good liar,” she said.

He smiled modestly. “Thank you. I try.”


	3. Chapter 3

“I’ve got to go teach Magic class soon,” said the evil werewolf apologetically. “I assume you don’t feel up to going out again today. I’ll just leave your lunch here in case you feel like eating it later.”

“You’re teaching magic?” Sarah asked.

“I’m afraid it wouldn’t be very relevant to you as a muggle. I have some muggle books you might like.“ 

“No. I’ll go with you. I’ve never been to a magic class before.”

“I’m afraid you won’t enjoy it.” 

“Not as much as this morning’s class, you mean? It’s hard to beat being used to demonstrate the proper way to hold a human victim down.” She couldn’t keep the fury out of her voice. She knew she shouldn’t be doing this. This was not a well-thought-out escape plan.

The werewolf was doing his slow breathing exercise again. It worked. He still looked like a human, if an unnaturally calm one. “I know this is a very difficult situation for—“

She swung a fist at his monstrously sympathetic face. He caught her fist in midair in his calloused hand. She might as well have punched a tree.

“Ow!” she said.

“Sorry,” he said, letting go of her fist. “Reflex. Let’s try that again, if it will help you feel better. I won’t block this time.”

“What?” She shook out her aching hand. 

“I’m sorry I blocked your punch, when I’m the only one here on whom you may safely take out your frustrations. Try it again. I promise I won’t block this time.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “This is a useful exercise for me too, as the wolf wants to defend himself.” He closed his eyes. There was tension in the muscles of his shoulders as he gripped his hands. “But I am stronger than the wolf. I won’t let him control me. Go on. Do it already. You’re enjoying keeping me in suspense, are you? Fair enough. I’ll wait.”

“No, it’s just… You want me to hit you. This just doesn’t seem appropriate without a dominatrix outfit. And I should be calling you a naughty boy.”

His laughter was explosive, powered by the tension in the air shattering. He opened his smiling eyes. He was blushing quite pink. 

Sarah helplessly found herself laughing with him. So, this was it. She’d heard of Stockholm syndrome. Knowing about it apparently didn’t help. She was laughing with her captor.

“I don’t actually want to be hit,” he choked out. “And if I did, I wouldn’t presume to impose on you for this service. I wouldn’t even have got your joke, were it not for my friend Sirius having some very odd magazines in his collection. His tastes are rather…varied. Not to be judgmental. He had them just sitting on the bookshelf in his flat, and I can’t resist a bookshelf, and… I had no idea. Anyway. I was really not expecting to be reminded of Sirius today. I’ve got to teach a class in a few minutes.” He took some more deep breaths, and got a book from the Latin bookcase.

“I’m coming with you.”

“Then are you sure you don’t want to punch me here? This will be your last chance until we get back. If you indulge while we’re out, I’ll have to make a big show of putting you in your place, and I don't want to do that.” 

“I can wait.”

“All right then.” He cast a spell over her uneaten lunch, and they set out for the woodland classroom again.

As horrible as this situation was, at least there was one benefit: she could learn about magic. Even if she, a muggle, couldn’t do any magic herself, it seemed like an important thing to know about. 

So, she strode through the hungry, yellow-eyed stares of the camp until they finally reached the bench-like logs. Some of the students stared at her with unabashed yellow eyes. Many were older than the students who’d been there to learn human impersonation in the morning.

“For my Magic students who aren’t enrolled in my Human Impersonation class, I’ll redo the introduction. This is Miss Briarcliff, a human given to me by Lord Greyback as a reward for my services. I brought her to class to familiarize you with your prey, so you will be able to properly ambush humans without getting overly excited and clumsy. To answer the inevitable question, we will not be practicing any spells on her today.” This last sentence was met with some complaining groans, although also, if Sarah wasn’t imagining it, some sighs of relief, probably from the less-prepared students.

The log bench that Sarah had to herself wasn’t very comfortable. The ground, however, was fairly dry, and cushioned by a thick layer of dead leaves, so she sat on that and used the log as a backrest. Despite having skipped lunch, she wasn’t hungry, but felt a bit shaky and unstable. The adrenaline from this morning was gone, leaving only weakness in its wake.

Her captor’s calm voice was oddly soothing. It helped that so much of what he was saying was in Latin. He was probably talking about the best spells for killing humans, but it didn’t sound that bad as long as she didn’t understand the meaning. He might as well be teaching a spell to change the color of your nose hair. 

These dead leaves really were quite comfortable, soft enough to lie on. Not crackly at all, really. More smooth, like old sheets worn soft… She gripped them frantically. They were sheets. She was on a bed, not a forest floor. She was finally waking from this nightmare. Of course she hadn’t been captured by werewolves. She sat bolt upright too fast, and felt dizzy.

“Sorry,” said the werewolf, crushing her hopes. “My students were impressed I could levitate you back here without waking you up, but then I spoiled it when I transferred you to the bed. Did you have a nice nap?”

“I fell asleep in your class?”

“Don’t be embarrassed, my students do it all the time. Some of this material is rather dry.”

“How can you make magic boring?”

“I learned from the best. It helps to imitate Professor Binns.”

“What?”

“Sorry, you haven’t faced the challenge of attempting to stay awake in his classroom.” He waved his wand at her leftover lunch. “I’ve removed the stasis charm, so it should be edible again, at least no less edible than it was originally. I hope you don’t mind leftovers for dinner. At least it will be better than whatever I’ll be having with Greyback tonight. It’s an honor to be invited to dine with him, and of course I can’t refuse. I’d better get into character.” He stood there for a moment. Nothing seemed to happen. “It’s hard to go from feeling oddly nostalgic for a boring teacher, to trying to imitate a feral werewolf. It would probably help if you took another swing at me.”

“What?”

“No pressure.”

“Can’t you just drop this disguise?”

He paused before answering. “Which is the disguise and which is the real me is an interesting question. To be a really convincing liar, one needs to believe the lie oneself, at least temporarily. Well, I’ll just have to get into character on the way. I’ll probably be back quite late, so don’t wait up for me. I’ll come in quietly so as not to wake you.” And he was gone.

 _The Unauthorized Biography of Celestina Warbeck_ made a fairly interesting dinner companion. The author seemed to regard it as scandalous that The Singing Sorceress’s mother was a muggle. The light got too dim for reading shortly after young Celestina was sorted into something called Gryffindor, and Mrs. Warbeck’s demands that Hogwarts offer performing arts classes for her talented daughter were being ignored. The name Dumbledore appeared, not as the world’s most powerful wizard who collected dangerous pets, but as a half-blood Professor of Transfiguration and head of Gryffindor House whose flamboyant dress sense may have inspired Celestina‘s later stagewear, so it must have been a different Dumbledore.

——- 

Sarah’s captor looked human as he served her porridge for breakfast. He smirked at her choice of reading material, still on the table with a bookmark in it. “Enjoy celebrity gossip?” 

“There’s this whole culture I didn’t know existed. The author assumes I already know all about it. I’m figuring it out from context.”

“That’s exactly why I included that book in the library. I’m glad it works.”

“So how was dinner?”

“The meeting went quite well, I think. All of Greyback’s inner circle were there, so I guess I’m one of them now. We all had to agree that his plan for organized attacks on full-moon nights, rather than chance encounters, is brilliant. We’ll position ourselves near some human town just before moonrise, cast an anti-disapparition ward to prevent our prey from escaping, then transform into our wolf forms and overwhelm the humans’ defenses with our superior numbers, biting to kill and infect as many humans as possible. He hasn’t selected a target yet, or he hasn’t told me. He’s counting on me, and the few other werewolves who can safely side-along apparate, to transport the fighters to the target, so it will have to be a town with which we wizarding werewolves are familiar. Sorry for introducing unfamiliar vocabulary without a definition. Apparition is a form of instantaneous transportation, like science fiction teleportation. He’ll have to tell me in advance which town we’re targeting, since I’ll be transporting some of the fighters there. If I have enough time…” He trailed off. “I’m talking too much. Sorry, there’s no one else I can really talk to, but I shouldn’t be telling you this. It’s very exciting to finally be in a really high-level meeting. I’ve been working towards this for months.” His pride and excitement were obvious, if any of his displays of emotions were real.

The porridge had formed an unswallowable lump in her throat. She forced it down with difficulty. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you. On a different topic, would you like to accompany me to this morning’s class? Lord Greyback is unlikely to grace us with another surprise visit.”

She wasn’t going to find any murder weapons in a book of celebrity gossip. “I’ll go.” She got her clipboard. 

After the staring yellow eyes of the camp, the cheerful, human-looking children’s faces were a relief. Sarah had to remind herself that it was all an illusion. The children ceased their games and settled on their benches.

“Good morning class,” said Professor Lupin with a smile. 

“Good morning Professor Lupin! Good morning Miss Briarcliff!” the children choroused. 

“Rex, I’m sorry there wasn’t time for you to present your book report yesterday, so I’m giving you an opportunity first thing today. You have the floor.” Lupin sat down on one of the log benches as Rex stood up. 

Rex spoke of _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_ with such delighted enthusiasm, Sarah was tempted to reread it herself. It was back on the shelf in the tent. She reminded herself that reading it would not help her slay any monsters.

“So I think everyone should read it,” concluded Rex.

“Thank you very much, Rex, that was very well-presented,” said Lupin. “Did you have any questions about it?”

“What’s Turkish delight like?” 

“I asked my mum the same question when I read that book, and she went right out and bought me some. It was disappointing. It’s a type of candy. It’s gummy, rosewater-flavored blocks. I thought someone had spilled perfume on it accidentally. I much prefer chocolate. Some people must like it I suppose. You should try it. I’ll look for it the next time I go shopping.”

“What do you think fauns taste like? Goats or humans?” He glanced at Sarah at the last word.

Lupin sighed. “We are pretending to be human in this class, therefore we do not discuss eating humans.”

“But fauns aren’t—“

“Rex,” said Lupin like a stern human. He neither growled nor bared his fangs.

Rex stopped arguing.

Sarah wrote on her clipboard, “Teacher has excellent control of class, possibly because he resembles a cartoon supervillain.” 

Rex sat down as Lupin stood up. “Children, this book is available in the library. Speaking of the library, I need to say a few words about it. As you know, I’m not just your professor. I also do various, sometimes dangerous jobs for the pack. In the event that I don’t return from one of these missions, I want to make sure that the library survives. I trust you students to maintain it, and continue using it responsibly, taking good care of the books and returning them promptly. I considered appointing a librarian in my stead, but I think it would be even better to leave you with a system for selecting a librarian yourselves. Thus, today’s lesson continues our discussion of systems of government, moving on to democracy. I hope you will gain an understanding of how this system works, not just to make your human disguises more convincing, but to enable you to select the most competent librarian from amongst yourselves.”

He gave a basic overview of voting, explaining and rephrasing with seemingly limitless patience, as the students found the concept difficult to grasp. He organized a referendum as an example, as the class decided if they should sit in sun or shade (shade won). Finally, most seemed to get it.

“I’m very proud of you all,” he said. “Next, I want all of you to ask yourselves if you want to run for the job of class librarian. This job is a responsibility and an honor. As this is an important decision, you needn’t decide today. Please decide by Friday if you would like to run.

“As today is Wednesday, all students who have earned a library day may come with me to exchange your books. Others, I will see in Magic class this afternoon, or in tomorrow’s Human Impersonation class.” Lupin led the mob of enthusiastic children through the camp to his tent. They descended on the bookshelves like a flock of vultures. There was no way they could all fit in the tent at once, so Lupin allowed only four in at a time. Sarah didn’t feel comfortable in the crowded tent, but neither did she feel comfortable without Lupin, in the mob waiting outside, so she went in and sat on her bed. Lupin took note in a ledger of which books the students returned and which they borrowed.

When the mob had finally left, Lupin looked through his tin collection. “Chicken noodle soup for lunch?”

“Sure. Were you serious about not coming back from a mission?” Sarah asked. 

“Yes. When Lord Greyback leads us to attack some human town, we have to assume that casualties will be very high on both sides.” He set a bowl of magically-heated soup at her place at the table. This time, he was the one with no appetite. “Lord Greyback and the other high-ranking werewolves will be watching me closely during the battle to ensure that I attack with sufficient valor. It’s quite likely that some human will kill me in self-defense, or I’ll be badly injured, captured, and sent to the Werewolf Research Institute for experimentation, which would produce the same result only more slowly. Of course, this little library losing its librarian wouldn’t be the worst consequence of that, but it’s one I have a chance of preparing for. Believe me, I’ve been desperately searching for some way to get you out of here unharmed in the case of my death, but I haven’t come up with anything that might work. Lord Greyback will give you as a reward to someone else, or take you himself. He’s tried keeping humans captive before. They…” Lupin looked convincingly pale. “They don’t live very long.”

“So what happens if you don’t fight with valor? If you don’t help transport the werewolves at all?”

“I’ll drop in rank, possibly be executed and eaten as a traitor, and lose you to someone who did fight well. Your best chance of survival is for me to be seen fighting bravely, yet somehow surviving the battle.”

“If you die, is there anyone here who could take over your classes? Anyone else who can teach Human Impersonation?”

He shook his head. “No one here knows human culture nearly as well as I do. Present company excepted, of course. Are you planning to apply once the job is available? I’m afraid that prejudice against your race would be a barrier to employment, although of course you’re far more qualified to teach this subject than I.” He suddenly looked excited. “But you could be my teaching assistant while I’m here! It would really help to have another perspective, especially of an actual human. And I’m not qualified to teach…” He waved his hand vaguely. “Girl stuff. Could you do that? Please? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be making demands of you. But it would be such a help to the girls to have a real human female role model to emulate.”

How much could she sabotage by teaching human culture wrong? This had potential. “I’ll be glad to help.”

“Thank you so much, Miss Briarcliff. I really can’t thank you enough.”

“It’s no problem.”

“Were you planning to attend this afternoon’s Magic class? You didn’t seem to get much out of it last time. Perhaps you could instead spend the time making a lesson plan for tomorrow morning’s class. I’ll give you some more paper.” He went out and got a handful of dead leaves, which he transfigured into sheets of paper and set on the table. He added some pens of various colors. “Choose your subject, and your class length. Do you have any teaching experience?”

“No.”

“I warn you, lecturing for five minutes can feel like an eternity in front of a big class like this. It helps to break things up with class discussions and activities. I’m sure you’ll do great.” He had an irrepressible smile on his face. “It’s almost like a real school, with another teacher.” He looked happier than he had when he’d boasted of being included in Greyback’s plotting to attack a town.

——-

The next morning, Lupin happily announced to the students, “Miss Briarcliff has kindly agreed to help me teach this class. I hope you realize that a true human such as Miss Briarcliff can provide much better insights into human culture than an imitator like me. We are very fortunate to have such a qualified teacher. I’m sure I will learn a lot as well. Please pay careful attention to her lesson. Miss Briarcliff, you have the floor.” He sat down and joined the class looking at her eagerly as she stood.

“Well. Hello. I thought that today I’d teach some human customs. For instance, when visiting a human, you may notice that they have a telly in their house. Um. Does anyone here know what a telly is?” Only one kid raised her hand.  

Sarah pointed to her. “Yes?”

“It has cartoons on it,” she said. “And you shouldn’t watch them because they rot your brain, but sometimes you have to so mum can cook dinner in peace.” 

The class seemed grateful for the warning about this dangerous brain-rotting weapon which apparently lurked in human homes.

“Right,” said Sarah. “Well. I don’t know about the brain-rotting thing. I guess I wouldn’t, if my brain had rotted, because the part that remembered stuff like that may have rotted away. Anyway, most human homes, in Britain at least, have a telly in them.” The class found this news alarming.

Lupin raised his hand. Sarah called on him gratefully. He would sort this out.

“I just wanted to point out,” he said, “if Miss Briarcliff doesn’t mind me interrupting her lesson, that when she speaks of most human homes, she means most muggle homes, as she speaks from the perspective of a muggle. I recommend trying to pass as a muggle in most cases when you’re around witches and wizards, as they will be hesitant to make any mention of Dark creatures in the presence of a muggle to avoid arousing suspicion of their own magic, and they generally don’t know much about the muggle world, so you don’t actually have to be that good at impersonating a muggle, just confident about it. Seeming familiar with devices like tellies will be a great way to convince witches and wizards that you’re muggle children, since tellies are modern muggle inventions which require electricity, which most wizarding homes do not have. Of course, the exception to this rule is when you find yourself in the company of Death Eaters, who torment and kill muggles on sight, in which case you should pretend to be pureblood wizarding children who’ve never heard of tellies. I apologize for the interruption, Miss Briarcliff. Please continue.”

Death Eaters? What? “Um. Thank you, Mr. Lupin. Yes, most muggle homes in Britain have a tellie. A tellie is a box with moving pictures in it, like movies, but I guess you don’t have movies either. Not just pictures, sound, also. People watch them for fun. Some people say they rot your brain, but they’re speaking metaphorically. They just mean that if you sit around watching the tellie instead of doing anything interesting, you turn into a boring, stupid person. So. That’s why it’s become trendy now, whenever you see a tellie, to throw it out a window.”

Lupin’s hand slowly rose into the air. Sarah ignored him.

“So instead of watching the tellie, what young people do nowadays is bite the heads off live bats,” she said quickly.

“Miss Briarcliff,” said Lupin, although she hadn’t called on him.

“Do you have a question, Mr. Lupin?”

He stood. “I need to have a word with you. Excuse us.” With a nod to the students, he led her away, behind some trees and shrubs. He cast what she recognized by now as silencing spells. “What are you doing?”

“Teaching human culture. I’m a human, so whatever I make up is part of human culture, right?”

Lupin sighed. “You’re not making stuff up. You’re stealing ideas from Ozzy Osbourne, who is not generally regarded as a normal human being by either muggle or wizarding standards.”

Sarah took a step back, and found that she’d hit her head against a low-hanging tree limb rather harder than she liked. “What?! No. No. I don’t believe it. You’re a wizard, who’s also a werewolf, and you spent your youth locked in a shack, and you have Pride and Prejudice on your bookshelf, so there is no way you’d have had an opportunity to know about Ozzy Osbourne.”

“My friend Sirius is a big fan.”

“This is the bloke with the skin mags?”

“Yes, that bloke. He lets me crash on his couch whenever I’m in London. Anyway, even if I’d never heard of Ozzy Osbourne, I’d certainly recognize that biting the head off a bat is not normal human behavior. What do you take me for?”

“Um. A werewolf? The most evil werewolf in the pack? A hypocrite? A more knowledgeable one than I thought, which was my mistake, but still a hypocrite. I might not be able to sabotage your work here, but I’ll be damned if I’ll help.”

Lupin took a moment to close his eyes, take a deep breath, and rub his temples. “I am trying to accomplish something here,” he said.

“You’re trying to teach these werewolves to pass as human, so they can better infiltrate and attack us. I won’t be a part of that.”

“You think that’s what I’m doing?”

“That’s what Greyback told you to do, and you said you’d do it, and I’ve seen you do it, so yeah. You can’t very well deny it.”

“Greyback wants his pack to be able to pass as humans. To do that, they have to understand human culture. If they truly understand human culture, if they get to know and love the literature, the art, the music, hell, the fashion, the sports, I don’t care, then they won’t think of humans as prey anymore. They’ll think of them as people. That’s what I’m trying to accomplish. If werewolves and humans are ever going to live peacefully together, we have to understand each other’s cultures.”

Sarah stared at him.

“And for god’s sake don’t tell Greyback,” he added.

“But… but you’re also teaching these kids magic. You’re teaching them how to attack humans.”

He gave her a steely look. “I am teaching them Latin.”

“Well, yeah, because that’s necessary for them to learn magic.”

“I am teaching them Latin,” he repeated. “This is necessary for some advanced branches of magic, yes. If they wanted to read very old grimoires or invent their own spells, it would be necessary.”

“So… You’re just wasting their time?”

“No! Learning another language is never a waste. Particularly Latin. It opens up a whole world of knowledge! Besides, it’s a great help for those who want to move on to learn the other Romance languages, such as Italian and French.” 

“And that would help them… prey on Italians and Frenchies?”

“That would help them appreciate Italian opera and order at a French restaurant,” he said firmly. 

They looked at each other in silence for a while. “So will you help?” he finally said.

“I don’t know if I should believe you.”

“There’s no real reason you should. You have only my word for it, and I’m an incorrigible liar. You don’t have to help of course. You could just stay in the tent. You could read books. You could try to learn Latin. It really is a beautiful language.”

She’d try again. “I’ll help.”

“Thank you, Miss Briarcliff.”

He canceled the silencing spell and led her back to the class.

“Miss Briarcliff just demonstrated the human custom of pranking, which is comparable to our play-biting, by pranking all of us. She presented some entertainingly creative lies as human culture. While pranking is a worthy subject, I feel that it is overly ambitious to attempt as a first lesson. I have asked her to to postpone this particular lesson plan and develop one on a different subject, which she will present tomorrow. So, back to our previously scheduled lesson, more details about how to run a library.” He taught the difference between fiction and nonfiction, and how it was sometimes hard to tell the difference, and how even books intended as nonfiction could be wrong, while fiction could contain important truths.

——-

That afternoon, after Lupin set off to teach Magic, Sarah prepared a presentation on hairstyling. While the little werewolves’ hair didn’t look particularly inhuman to her muggle eyes, it did give the impression of wild creatures. If they paid a bit more attention to their grooming, they could pass much more easily—

She ripped up her presentation on hairstyling.

When Lupin came home that evening, carrying a couple of dead partridges and a bunch of wild greens, she was ready for him as soon as she’d granted him permission to enter his own tent. “I’m not going to help,” she said. “You’ll have to teach Human Impersonation by yourself.”

He nodded. “I respect that. With the information you have, that’s really the most ethical choice. I’m sorry, I had no right to ask for your help in the first place. Anyway, I hope you like partridges. One of my students gave me these. I’m taking her word that the greens are edible. I never got a proper werewolf education, so I’m clueless about living off the land.”

She’d been expecting a fight. She was all prepared with arguments, and had no use for them. She sat there blankly as he prepared dinner, mostly with his wand. She eventually said, “Werewolves eat greens? I thought you were serving this human food just for me. You’re not just carnivores?”

“Not at all,” he said. “Our diets are human except for one night a month. I mean. The same as a human diet. Not a diet consisting of humans. Not usually. Not by necessity.” 

Dinner was delicious.

“I’m sorry I can’t offer you any wine,” he said. “Burgundy would go well with this. I guess we’ll just have to use our imaginations.”

He knew about food and wine pairings. And she thought she’d be able to fool this very cultured werewolf with fake human culture lessons. She felt an urge to bite the head off a bat.

The next morning, she apologized to the class for the prank she’d played the day before. She explained that she hadn’t really known what to teach, so she’d just made stuff up. She said she wouldn’t be teaching them until she could think of a real lesson. The kids looked very disappointed, but perked up when Lupin spoke of their upcoming election.

Two candidates, Rex and Angelique, stepped forward to run for librarian. Sarah thought that Angelique seemed young for the job. She hoped she wouldn’t be too disappointed when she lost. Lupin taught them how to campaign, and scheduled speeches, debates, and question and answer sessions. The kids were very excited.

——-

“I’ve been here for a week,” Sarah said over dinner. “I’ve been counting the days.”

“I’m not going to promise that living a lie gets any easier,” Lupin said. “But one gets used to it.” 

“That time of the month is approaching.”

“I know. The full moon is a week away. I’ll have to find some way to protect you. The last trace of our humanity disappears on the full moon. Even I would bite you if I had access to you. I won’t, as I’ll be out attacking some human town with the rest of the able-bodied werewolves in this pack, but the young and infirm will stay behind in camp, and even they will be a danger to you, as you’ll be greatly outnumbered.”

“No, I mean _my_ time of the month is approaching. I’ll need some supplies.”

He blinked at her for a while. Then, “Oh! Oh that. Right.” His expression gradually changed, and then he was laughing so hard he had trouble breathing. 

“I’m glad my biology is so amusing to you.”

He tried to reply, but couldn’t for a long time. Eventually, “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just...The last time I saw my friend James, he was complaining about his wife sending him out to buy that stuff. He thought it was awfully embarrassing. And then Sirius said that James was whipped. Sirius would never let a girl send him on errands like that. Sirius can have any girl he wants. He doesn’t even have to put in any effort, they just throw themselves at him. You have to picture these blokes. They’re both these filthy rich handsome pureblood human wizards. They have practically everything a man could want. So I pointed out that I’m much luckier than they, since whatever other troubles I may have, my wife will never send me out to buy any feminine hygiene products, since I will never have a wife! I’ll never even have a girlfriend. We all got a good laugh out of it. And then you came into my life. Behold the terrible consequence of my foolish boast: all the inconveniences of marriage without any of the benefits. The gods must have been offended by my hubris. I’m clearly being punished for it.” His attack of laughter resumed.

She watched him laughing. “I don’t get it.”

“I’ve read the Greek tragedies, I should know what happens to those who boast of their good fortune.”

“No, I don’t get why you wouldn’t have a girlfriend.”

He stopped laughing and stared at her. “I’m a werewolf,” he explained as if she were a particularly slow student. “A Dark creature. A monster. Werewolves are soulless, evil, deserving nothing but death. I certainly don’t deserve a girlfriend.”

“Well sure, you’re evil, but just in an ordinary hypocritical way, not any particularly monstrous way. Lots of humans are worse than you, and they have girlfriends. Lots of girls would be into this cartoon supervillain look you’ve got going. I mean, have you looked in a mirror recently?”

“I try to avoid mirrors. And what would I want a girl like that for? One who just wanted me for my body?”

She blinked at him. “Do I really have to explain? I mean, when Greyback gave me to you, he did imply that werewolves and humans can—“

“There would be no point being with someone I can’t love. I’ve seen humans in love. My friend James—“

“This is the bloke who’s embarrassed to buy stuff for his wife?”

“Yes, that bloke. He’s loved Lily for years. He knew the moment he first saw her that they were destined to be together. He was completely obsessed. He’d ask her out constantly, and she’d hex him every time, but he never gave up.”

“That sounds rather annoying actually. Are you sure that was love?” And who were these people? How could Lupin have made human friends while being kept as a pet? Maybe they were people who worked for Dumbledore. Animal trainers? Cage cleaners? 

“Of course it was love. They’re married now. Well. If they’re both still alive. Dumbledore sends them on rather dangerous missions.” Ah. They did work for Dumbledore. Hunting down more dangerous pets for his collection? “Anyway, I couldn’t do that sort of thing. I don’t have a soul. Without a soul, I’m incapable of true love. Without true love, I have no use for a girlfriend. _Quod erat demonstrandum_.”

“How can you tell you don’t have a soul? I don’t know if I have a soul or not.”

“Of course you have a soul. You’re human.”

“Prove I have a soul.”

He seemed about to say something a few times, but didn’t. Finally, he said, “I’m sorry, I need to make allowances for your lack of education on this topic. This is covered in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes at Hogwarts. Every witch and wizard knows this.” He searched a bookshelf. “It was returned recently. Here it is. _Lupine Lawlessness: Why Lycanthropes Don’t Deserve to Live_ , by Professor Emerett Picardy. It explains how we’re fundamentally different from humans. We have no souls, no capacity for love, no sense of morality.” He handed the book to her.  

“Don’t werewolves pair up with each other, though? I’ve seen what appear to be couples around camp.”

“Yes. We do have an instinctive attraction to the opposite sex, like any other animal. That’s not love.” 

“You’re high-ranking and popular around here. Haven’t you—“

“With a werewolf girl?” He shuddered. “They’re beasts.”

“But since you’re also a beast, aren’t you attracted to—“ 

“Please don’t make me think about werewolf girls in that way. I mean, to go from thoughts of a beautiful human girl like Lily to these… Ugh. On to a less disgusting topic.” He got a scrap of paper and a pencil and put them on the table. “Write down exactly what supplies you need. I’ll need to replenish our stocks of healing potions before the full moon anyway, so they’ll have to let me out to go shopping. I’m the best werewolf here at passing for human in a wizarding apothecary, and I can go to a muggle shop while I’m out. Greyback will insist I take a kid along as an apprentice to show how it’s done. I’m going to have to explain this purchase to a kid. The gods clearly have it in for me. Anyway, let me know if there’s anything else you need while I’m out. Just put it on the list.” 

A switchblade, a gun, a chainsaw… it was no use. “I could use some conditioner.”

“What?”

“For my hair. To help get tangles out. They sell it next to the shampoo. So there actually is something about human culture you don’t know, huh?”

“I never claimed to know everything. That’s why I asked you to be my teaching assistant. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.”

“I guess this is a girl thing I could be teaching in your Human Impersonation class if I wanted to be complicit in this. It’s really just a long hair thing, not a girl thing specifically. You could probably use it too. Your hair’s pretty long.”

“I haven’t had a chance to get it cut for a while,” he said, embarrassed. “I must look like a savage.”

“Don’t worry, it looks good. I mean, you look fine. Human. Long hair on men is in now. You look like you’re in a glam metal band or something. Or a wannabe.”

“Now I know you’re putting me on again.”

“No! Really! How can you have heard of Ozzy Osbourne and not know about this? Doesn’t your friend have posters of these bands?”

“He has posters of muggle girls in bikinis, and motorcycles. Even girls in bikinis riding motorcycles. No posters of blokes. I mean, Sirius himself has long hair, but I thought that was because of his ignorance of muggle fashion, not because he follows it. My muggle mum would always tell me I needed a haircut long before my hair got as long as his.” 

“There are different muggle styles you know. Go to a record store, look for pictures of Alice Cooper and Van Halen and blokes like that. Heck, look at the blokes buying their records. You’ll see.”

“How gullible do you think I am? Alice is a girl’s name. I know an Alice, and while she does have long hair, she is definitely not a man in a glam metal band.”

“No, Alice Cooper’s a bloke. He sings about death and destruction. Really. You can trust me on this. Didn’t you say I’m more qualified to teach human culture than you are?”

He sighed. “So in your qualified opinion, my long hair makes me look as manly as a muggle named Alice. Right.” He laughed, then tried to stop laughing. “I’m sorry.”

“You always say that. What are you sorry for this time?”

“I enjoy your company, Miss Briarcliff. I enjoy your jokes. I have no right to. Lord Greyback gave you to me for my pleasure, but that doesn’t mean I have any right to actually take pleasure in your company.” He pushed the paper and pencil closer to her. “Tell me what brand of conditioner you like, and anything else you want that I might be able to carry. My suitcase holds quite a lot. I’m serious. Let me know if there’s anything at all I can get for you that might make your stay here less miserable.”

“You know what I miss?” she said. “Music. I was captured on my way back from a music festival and I haven’t heard a note of music since. Could I have a radio?” 

“I don’t think the wards around this camp let radio signals through,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

She shouldn’t have felt disappointed.

The next morning, he cut his Human Impersonation class short, and canceled his afternoon Magic class. He apologized to the class for taking only one student on this field trip. He dismissed the rest of the students, then he and Rex walked Sarah back to his tent.

“Now Rex, I must impress upon you the extreme importance of your acting. We’re heading into human territory. If our performances aren’t flawless, we will both be found out and killed. Humans will show us no mercy.” 

Sarah was struck by how similar this speech was to ones he’d given her. 

“Good luck,” she found herself saying, for the kid looked very nervous. She suddenly gave him a hug.

“Thanks!” he said. His smile was perfect, his teeth human, his eyes sky blue.

Lupin let out the breath he’d been holding. “Tough test. Rex, you passed brilliantly. All right, if you can stay human even through that, I feel a lot better about taking you out into human territory.”

Rex’s grin got even wider and prouder.

Lupin picked up his empty suitcase. “Let’s go find Greyback for any last-minute supply requests, and Whitefang to let us through the wards.” They left. 

Sarah hoped they’d be back safe soon. Because she needed conditioner. How shallow could she be? No, she hoped they’d both grow fangs in the middle of a crowded wizarding shop and be rounded up by the Werewolf Capture Unit. Then unmanageable hair would be the least of her worries. But the pack would be considerably worse off without its resident human-impersonation expert.

She tried to read a book, but couldn’t concentrate.

——-

Lupin finally returned that evening. He opened his suitcase and took out a shopping bag that was larger than the suitcase.

“Welcome to my nightmare,” he said, grinning. He put the shopping bag in front of her. She looked inside. It held a small portable tape player with headphones, several packs of batteries, and some cassette tapes. There was Alice Cooper, looking at her askance from behind his long hair, welcoming her to his nightmare.

“I apologize for doubting you, Miss Briarcliff. You were quite right. The store clerk recommended some other tapes as well. I told him that I had been made fun of recently for my ignorance of contemporary music, Alice Cooper in particular, and asked for help getting up to date.”

She rushed to look through all the tapes.

“I got your conditioner too, and that other stuff you needed. I’ll put that in the bathroom.” He pulled another bag from his suitcase and took it there.

The record store employee had good taste. There was music she loved, and one folky-looking thing she’d never heard of. She stuck the Alice Cooper tape in the player. She put on the headphones, which probably sounded better than the tape player’s little speakers. It worked! _Welcome to my nightmare…_

She eventually became aware that her captor was looking at her, and smiling. Damn he was creepy. She stopped the tape and took off the headphones. “What?” she asked.

“I’m just glad you like it,” he said. “I’m glad… you still have a capacity for joy, even in a situation like this. There were these muggle girls in the record store, you could have been one of them, you should have been one of them, but I can’t… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. This is a pathetic gift.” He retreated to the tiny area of the tent that served as a kitchen. “Did you find enough for lunch? Sorry, this isn’t really set up for cooking without a wand.”

“It was fine. Thanks for transfiguring that can opener. It works.”

“I bought fresh stuff for dinner. Salad, salmon, potatoes, strawberries for dessert. I hope you like it.”

“Sounds great.” She watched him busy himself preparing dinner. “I don’t mean to hog the music,” she said. “I could play it through the speakers.”

He blinked at her in confusion for a moment. “Oh! I thought you were. I could hear it just fine.” Of course he could. “You were absolutely right, music is missing from this camp, and that’s a serious deficiency. It’s an essential part of human culture I should be teaching. I have a favor to ask. May I borrow your tapes and tape player to play for my class?”

Borrow? “But they’re yours. You bought them.”

“I bought them for you, with money my packmates stole from humans. They’re certainly not mine. I wouldn’t use them without your permission. But, I do want my students to hear human music. Could they really grow up to hunt and eat a people whose music they enjoy?”

Did even this make Sarah complicit? Was this the slippery slope? It would be easier on her if he just took them. “Go ahead, borrow them,” she said.

“Thank you.” His smile looked as genuine as a smile could be.

——-

Thank goodness she woke up in time to get to the little bathroom without staining the sheets, or the worn old t-shirt he'd given her to use as a nightgown. He’d bought exactly what she’d asked for. If she got pregnant, that would be nine months without this hassle, which would be a convenience, right? Ha.

She crept back to bed as silently as she could.

Moonlight glowed through the fabric walls, softly illuminating her captor. At least he didn’t snore. He slept in complete silence. She couldn’t even hear him breathing. She could see him breathing, though. He was probably dreaming now, according to something she’d read in Psych 101 about a physiological sign that a man was dreaming, and he had just a thin sheet over him, so she could see the outline of this physiological indicator perfectly well. It did not indicate what kind of dream he was having. She knew that.

He suddenly jerked awake, bolted upright, and opened his mouth as if to scream, but no sound came out. Then he sat there, shaking and looking frantically around the room until his eyes locked with hers. He started. She saw him mouth what was probably the familiar word “sorry,” but heard nothing.

He turned away from her and sat hunched over in a ball for a while, arms wrapped around his knees, shaking. He eventually got out of bed, and sat in one of the chairs. His pajamas were dark with sweat in spots. “Sorry,” he repeated, audibly this time. “I didn’t mean to wake you up. I don’t usually. I can put up a stronger silencing spell if this one’s wearing out.” He gestured towards the rumpled bedding on the floor that comprised his bed.

“No, I didn’t hear anything. I was awake already.”

He nodded sympathetically. “The rest hardly seems worth the nightmares, does it? I’m going to read for a bit before I try again, that often helps. I won’t need any more light than this, but if you’d like to join me, I could cast enough for you to read as well.”

“Oh. No thanks. I think I’ll try to just go straight back to sleep.”

He nodded and said “Good luck,” as if she were embarking on some desperate mission, then browsed his library.

“Why did you put a silencing spell around your bed?”

“There’s no need for my nightmares to disturb your sleep.”

“Does the silencing go both ways?”

“No, I wouldn’t want to limit my hearing like that. If there’s a commotion outside, I want to know about it. The silencing spell on the walls of this tent is one-way for that reason. And… I’m sorry, this is going to sound weird, but I’ve been having fewer nightmares since you’ve been here. There’s something soothing about hearing a human breathing. It reminds me of my old dorm room. I can almost imagine I’m back in Gryffindor Tower, with my friends around me. Those were seven good years. The nightmares have been worse since I’ve been on my own.”

“What?”

“Sorry, you wouldn’t have heard of Gryffindor Tower. At my old school, Hogwarts, the students are sorted into four houses according to their talents. Each house has its own dormitories and common room, I was sorted into Gryffindor, the house of bravery. I made great friends there.”

“But I thought you were locked in a shack.”

“Oh. Well, that too of course, but only for full moons. You didn’t believe that story I told my students, did you? Well, it was true in a way, but there are different ways to tell it. Dumbledore convinced my parents to let me go to school like a human child. I’ll forever be grateful for the opportunity to get an education, and of course for the friends I made there.”

“You said Dumbledore wanted to keep you as a pet. He wanted to flaunt his ability to tame a Dark creature. He locked you in a shack to break your will.”

He stared at her. “You believed me?”

“You’re covered in scars! You said being imprisoned by Dumbledore drove you to attack yourself. The story makes sense.”

“Well, it had to, for Greyback to believe it.”

“So, what, you’re telling me your scars are fake?”

“No. My scars are real. Most of them are from me attacking myself during full moons. Mostly from when I was locked in that shack at school, yes. But, I mean, it wasn’t actually that bad.”

“How could it not be that bad?” 

“It just wasn’t.”

“You’re usually a better liar than this.”

He shrugged. “Maybe that’s because I’m not lying. I was glad I was allowed in school.”

“And your father didn’t really come home from work every day bragging about how many werewolves he’d killed?”

“Not every day, no. He does other Dark creatures too. Boggarts, doxies, hinkypunks… He’s quite a good exterminator. People call him about all sorts of creatures, many of which aren’t even really harmful, but are just nuisances. He doesn’t always kill them, some he just relocates. This rich family wanted him to remove a thestral from their estate, and those aren’t really that dangerous, they’re just creepy-looking to some people. Sure they’re carnivores, but they’re mostly just scavengers. My dad took her home to keep as a pet. He let me name her. I called her Betty, because I thought her wings looked batty. It seems silly now, but the name stuck. She let me ride her. I fed her. Thestrals would be expensive for most people to keep, but my dad always had lots of meat for her from work. She never so much as nipped me, even though I smelled like the werewolf meat she often ate. Such a sweetheart. I had quite a nice childhood, really.”

He walked away from the bookcase and back to his tangled nest of sheets and blankets on the floor. He set about straightening them. “Thank you, Miss Briarcliff. These are the perfect thoughts to calm me back down to sleep. I’ll imagine brushing out Betty’s mane and polishing her scales, She especially likes the livers of Dark creatures, so she’d do this cute little prance whenever I fed her one. That’s got to keep the nightmares at bay. Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight.” Sure, these thoughts would keep _his_ nightmares away.

——-

“Today is the day you’ve all been waiting for!” Lupin cheerfully proclaimed to the class. “Election Day! Now we choose who will be our librarian.” He held up the ledger in which he recorded the library’s records. “I’ve been thinking about this. Even if I do come back, I’ll be happy to have someone else take over librarian duties.” He set the ledger down on a log. “As of today, someone else will take charge of this ledger.”

“You’ll definitely come back,” said Rex.

“Rex, I told you to raise your hand and wait to be called on before speaking,” said Lupin sternly.

Rex stuck his hand up and resumed speaking at Lupin’s nod. “I spoke to Lord Greyback. He says I can come to the attack tonight too. I’ll be right beside you the whole time. I won’t let any humans hurt you.”

Lupin looked pale. “You? Coming tonight?”

“Lord Greyback said I could!” said Rex proudly. “He says he can use all the fighters he has.”

“You’re not a fighter. You’re a child.”

“I’m seventeen, I think. Probably about seventeen. How old were you when you killed your first human?”

“Eighteen. Almost two years ago.”

“Tell us the story!”

“That’s not relevant.”

“Tell us! Tell us!” the kids shouted. Lupin wasn’t in control of his class anymore.

He spoke hurriedly. “Dumbledore needed one of his enemies killed, so he used me. He has quite the flair for the dramatic, and a werewolf makes for an impressive murder weapon. This has nothing to do with you, Rex.”

“I’m going to fight right by your side, Professor. I’m going to be just like you.”

“I thought you were going to be a librarian just like me.”

“That too.”

“No. No. You can’t run for librarian this morning if you’re going to charge off to battle this evening.”

“Why not?” 

“Because we could both die tonight, Rex. Someone has to carry on the work I’ve started here. We can’t risk leaving the library without a librarian.”

Rex thought. Then he picked up the ledger, walked over to Angelique and handed it to her with a smile. “You ran a good campaign,” he said. “Plus you actually have time to do the job. I’ll be busy.”

Angelique, wearing a big grin, took the ledger. “I won! I’m a librarian now!” 

“Congratulations, Angelique,” said Lupin. Then he addressed the class. “As Angelique is running unopposed, she wins by default. I’m sure she’ll do an excellent job. So, as we no longer have any reason to hold an election, let’s cut straight to the victory party and all congratulate our new librarian!” He nodded to Sarah, who turned on the music. Lupin set some fizzy drinks,  crisps, biscuits, and Turkish delight out on a magically-flattened log.

The children attacked the snacks like, well, a pack of wolves.

Lupin sat on the same log as Sarah and they watched the children together.

“They seem rowdier than usual,” said Sarah.

“Full moon tonight,” explained Lupin. “Their wolves are coming to the surface. I know better than to try to teach them anything new on these days. It’s challenging enough to maintain our current levels of humanity. I always find some excuse to have a party instead of a lesson. It’s more practice of course, as I expect them to appear human during the party. I don't bother teaching magic class at all.”

Sarah looked over at Lupin, with his short-bitten nails and worried brown eyes. “Your disguise is holding.”

Those brown eyes flicked to her, and she was treated to his modest smile. “Thank you. I’ve had a lot of practice.” They sat and watched some more. “All parties must come to an end.” When a song ended, he pressed the stop and eject buttons on the tape player, put in a different tape, and pressed play. The music was not the cheerful pop she had selected for this party, but folk, voices harmonizing sweetly.

 _Of all the money that e'er I had_  
_I spent it in good company_  
_And all the harm I've ever done_  
_Alas it was to none but me_  
_And all I've done for want of wit_  
_To mem'ry now I can't recall_  
_So fill to me the parting glass_  
_Good night and joy be to you all_  
  
_Of all the comrades that e'er I had_  
_They're sorry for my going away_  
_And all the sweethearts that e'er I had_  
_They'd wish me one more day to stay_  
_But since it fell unto my lot_  
_That I should rise and you should not_  
_I gently rise and softly call_  
_Good night and joy be to you all_  
  
_A man may drink and not be drunk_  
_A man may fight and not be slain_  
_A man may court a pretty girl_  
_And perhaps be welcomed back again_ _  
_A man may fight both foe and friend_  
_Yet recognize his time to fall_  
_Come fill to me the parting glass_  
_Good night and joy be with you all__

The song had been sung at Sarah’s grandfather’s funeral. Her eyes welled with unexpected tears.

As the song played, Lupin got up, poured the last of a fizzy soft drink into one of the transfigured-leaf cups, and approached Rex. After a brief discussion, Lupin drew his wand and transfigured both their cups into proper pint glasses. He then clinked glasses with Rex, who looked thrilled at this gesture of respect from his teacher. They both drank. The song ended. That was the end of the tape.

“Greyback’s coming!” called a kid. Everyone dropped to the ground, although taking care to set down their cups without spilling them. 

“You may rise,” said Greyback magnanimously. “As you were.” He sniffed around the party until he got to Sarah. Lupin quickly joined them.

“Your bitch smells like blood,” said Greyback.

“Yes, my lord,” said Lupin.

“You haven’t got her pregnant yet.”

“It can take a few tries. Oh, that reminds me. I was planning to put some protective spells around my tent to keep the non-combatant werewolves out while the rest of us are attacking the town, to protect my human.” 

“I’m impressed you’ve kept her alive this long.” 

“Thank you my lord. She was a very thoughtful gift, and I like to take good care of my property. I’m getting a lot of use out of her. Anyway, I’m concerned that having her in camp tonight would be stressful to the pack, as they’d be frustrated to smell her without being able to bite her. I think it would be better to stash her outside the camp. I could wall her into a cave some distance away, so the smell of her wouldn’t be so tantalizing to the wolves in camp. I know of one not far from here. I discovered it when I was searching for this pack. She’d be too weak to dig her way out of course. I could come back and get her later. Or, should I fall in battle, someone else could get her, so she doesn’t go to waste.”

“That’s very considerate of you, Lupin.”

“Thank you my lord. So, you approve of this plan?”

“Sure. I’ll tell Whitefang to let you and your human through the wards this afternoon, before we mobilize to attack. Just show him where you’re stashing your human so he can retrieve her later if necessary, and he’ll walk you back.”

“Thank you my lord. I’ll go pack some supplies for her.”

Acting, acting, acting… Lupin just negotiated a plan to get them both safely out of the camp, beyond the wards, before the battle. They’d then have only one werewolf to escape, and then they’d both be free. She should not look too excited.  

Greyback strode off. Lupin waved his wand to vanish empty bottles and snack packaging, and let the cups and two pint glasses flatten into leaves again. He gave no hint that he was feeling anything other than resignation to his own imminent death. Sarah, trying not to let her hands shake, packed the tape player and tapes into their paper bag.

“That concludes this month’s classes,” proclaimed Lupin. “There is no magic class this afternoon of course. I wish you the best of luck for tonight. I hope to see you all tomorrow. Either way, Angelique, I leave the library in your very capable hands.”

The kids wished their professor good luck as well, then dispersed. 

Sarah forced herself to seem calm until she and Lupin walked back and entered his tent. Then her enthusiasm burst out of her. “Mr. Lupin, you’re brilliant!”

“I don’t know about that, Miss Briarcliff,” he said with his modest smile. “I’d rather come up with these ideas at more convenient times, but something about the opportunity to deceive an authority figure brings out the creativity in me. I just had to stop thinking of you as a liability, and realize that you gave me the perfect excuse to get outside the wards before the battle.”

“I could kiss you!”

“Why? You don’t even know why I so desperately needed to get outside the wards.”

“What? It’s obvious, isn’t it? To us, I mean, not to Greyback. Once we’re out, we can both escape before the battle! You don’t have to fight at all, and I’ll be free!”

He was staring at her. “You thought… Oh. Of course you did.” His smile collapsed.

“I mean, there’s still one werewolf in our way, Whitefang, but you could, what do you call it, apparate us both somewhere safe, just leave him behind, right? He’ll be surprised, he shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”

“Miss Briarcliff. I can see how you would come to that conclusion with the information you have, but that actually wasn’t my plan.” 

“So what is your plan?”

“I will take you outside the wards, and wall you into a cave. If all goes well, I should be back to get you a few days afterwards, to take you back to camp. I’ll pack food and water for you of course, and you may bring some books and your tape player if you like, and I’ll make a magical reading light for you. And you’ll have some bedding, and the self-scourgifying bucket. It won’t be all that bad.” He busied himself around the tent gathering these things.

She waited, but that was apparently it. “So you were telling Greyback the truth?” 

“Well. Not all of it. The only problem…” He thought for a while. “You might have trouble falling asleep in an unfamiliar cave, so here’s what I’ll do. As soon as I take you to the cave, I’ll set up a bed for you, and magically knock you unconscious so you’re not even bothered by the fact that you’re alone in a dark cave. You’ll wake up in the morning, uncover the light I set up for you, have breakfast, read a book, listen to some music, have a not really terrible time until I come back for you.”

“But…” Words failed her.

“Please believe me, there’s a very good reason for this. There are things you don’t know. I can’t tell anyone who hasn’t been trained in occlumency. New vocabulary word for you, the art of preventing mind-reading. I don’t know if Whitefang is a legilimens or not, but I can’t risk it. Don’t let him look in your eyes, although a really skilled legilimens doesn’t even need to do that.”

Whitefang might be able to read her mind? Fuck. Of course she couldn’t go skipping merrily out of the camp, but apparently she couldn’t even think about their escape plan. Ok. She could do this. She practiced filling her head with music. Anyone listening in on her thoughts would hear nothing but The Parting Glass. 

Lupin had her choose some books to keep her entertained for days in a cave. She tried to take this seriously. She chose some muggle books, some wizarding.

Lupin packed her supplies into his suitcase, labeled Professor R. J. Lupin, which really wasn’t big enough to contain everything, but somehow did with room to spare.

Soon enough, a harsh voice at the door shouted, “Lupin, you ready?”

“Yes, thank you so much for coming,” said Lupin, opening the door of their tent and stepping out, carrying the suitcase. Sarah followed him, looking at her shoes. _Of all the money that e'er I had, I spent it in good company._

Whitefang sniffed. “Can’t have that smell in camp tonight,” he said. “Your tent would be shredded by morning. Come on. You, human, walk in front where I can see you.”

“I don’t know where we’re going,” Sarah said to her shoes. _And all the harm I've ever done, Alas it was to none but me._

“I’ll walk with you,” said Lupin, falling into step beside her and taking hold of her arm. _And all I've done for want of wit, To mem'ry now I can't recall._

They walked through the camp. _So fill to me the parting glass, Good night and joy be to you all._

Whitefang waved his wand, and Lupin led them through an unremarkable-seeming patch of woods. This was it. She was free of the wards, and guarded by only two werewolves. If she was going to escape, this would be her best opportunity.

She glanced at her captor, walking beside her. He looked human, in his cartoon supervillain way. Whitefang was older and less muscular, but more wolfish, and walked with his wand pointed at her like a loaded gun. Her best opportunity to escape was still pretty bad.

“Here’s the cave,” Lupin said. “It will take me a few minutes to make it habitable for her. Humans are delicate.”

“Don’t take too long,” grumbled Whitefang. “We have a lot to do before tonight.”

“I know.” 

Whitefang seemed content to stay outside the cave as Lupin said _lumos_ and led her in by wandlight. He cast his familiar silence spell around them,

“You should be safe here.” She would not be safe from cold, damp, or darkness. “This light is enough for you to read by, right?” He had filled an empty marmalade jar with flames, which burned on seemingly no fuel.

She nodded dully. This couldn’t really be the plan, could it? Lupin just hadn’t told her the real plan, for fear that Whitefang would read it from her mind. “But… we can escape now. Right? You can apparate us away.”

“And undo all I’ve accomplished since I found this pack,” he said bitterly. “I can’t let you escape. That would destroy Greyback’s trust in me.” Lupin set the marmalade jar full of flames on a rock and stared at it. “This fire should last indefinitely. It’s powered by my magic. Well, it should last until I die, so indefinitely only from my point of view. Objectively, not long at all, really. So. I guess that’s how you’ll know. If it suddenly goes completely dark in here.” The shivering flames cast strange shadows on his face. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t think of a way.” The firelight gleamed off tears welling in his eyes. He suddenly looked down to search his pockets, drawing out a grey sphere the size of a pea. “If that flame goes out, you’ll be alone in werewolf territory. There’s no point trying to escape, they’ll track you down, and you know what they’ll do to you. This is a suicide pill. Crack it between your teeth, and death should be instantaneous. If you prefer. It’s up to you of course. I thought I’d offer.”

Sarah stared at the pill in his calloused hand. What did he care what happened after his death? Was this another lie? Was this truly something that could kill him if she somehow managed to trick it between his teeth rather than hers? Her hand shook with anger as she reached for the pill.

His hand was shaking too. He abruptly closed it into a fist before she reached it. “Fuck, I can’t do this. I’m a Dark creature. Dumbledore tried to teach me right from wrong, but it was hopeless. I’ve got no moral sense. I can’t act for the greater good. Change of plan. I’ll take you somewhere else, someplace much more comfortable than this, but not as secure. You could escape. If I survive the battle, and I don’t bring you back, the pack will know something’s wrong. They’ll know I let you escape, and then my whole mission’s screwed. I need your promise that you won’t try to escape. If I’m still alive in the morning, you’ll come back to the pack with me. Please.”

Sarah looked at the hypocritical werewolf. This was her chance. “I promise I won’t try to escape,” she said. Acting. She’d show him acting. She’d kill him by escaping, proving to Greyback that he hadn’t kept her properly imprisoned.

“Sorry, as you haven’t apparated before, you’ll get quite motion-sick. Hold on.” He held her arm. It didn’t seem necessary for her to hold him, as he was gripping her so tightly. “Dumbledore won’t be happy about this,” he remarked. Suddenly the cave disappeared and she was whirling through empty space.

Just as suddenly, she was throwing up on the wood floor of a large and richly-furnished room. Two young men jumped up from the chess game they’d been playing. The chess pieces jumped as well, and yelled at the players for abandoning their game. 

“Sorry,” said Lupin. “ _Scourgify_ ,” he added, waving his wand at the vomit, which disappeared.

She felt rather conspicuous, suddenly throwing up on these strangers’ floor, but the two young men ignored her.

“Remus!” exclaimed one of the chess-players, the one with long black hair. He charged and attacked Lupin with such a vigorous hug, he was nearly knocked off his feet. “Thank Merlin you’re alive! It’s been months, we’ve been so worried—“

“I missed you too,” said Lupin quietly as he hugged back.

“Sirius, let the poor man breathe,” said the other man, the one with glasses and shorter, messier black hair. “It would be pretty ironic for the hero to survive months in a werewolf pack, then get strangled by his best friend on his homecoming.”

The long-haired man reluctantly let go of Lupin, who was immediately tackled by the short-haired man. “Remus you bastard! You had us worried sick! Couldn’t you have sent a Patronus?”

“Sorry, I couldn’t risk a Patronus being seen by the wrong person. Um. James? Don’t make me use my werewolf strength to break out of this hug.”

The short-haired man reluctantly let go.

“Speaking of which, it looks like the feral life suits you,” remarked the long-haired man. “The werewolf workout: next fitness craze!”

“I had to do this to be taken seriously in the pack,” Lupin said, embarrassed. “Werewolves take great stock in physical strength.”

“Nah, you obviously developed these muscles just to attract chicks,” he replied. “And look, it worked. Who’s your nauseated friend?”

“Remus?” called a female voice from outside the room. Then a red-haired young woman rushed in as fast as a pregnant woman could rush. “Remus, thank God you’re alive!” He was engulfed in yet another hug, at least a gentler one this time.

“Lily! I see that congratulations are in order,” he said, holding her at arms length and looking at her bulging belly. “I’ve been away for so long, I didn’t even know. When’s the baby due?”

She glared at him with emerald green eyes. “What do you mean? Are you saying I’m so fat I look pregnant?”

Lupin suddenly looked terrified. “No! No, of course not.” 

She laughed. “I’m just messing with you, Remus. You’re the only one I hadn’t done that to yet. Your reaction almost made the wait worthwhile. Of course you’re right. The baby’s supposedly due August first, but you know how I feel about divination. Can you stay for dinner? Moonrise isn’t for a few hours, is it?”

“Sorry, I have barely any time. I have to go back, but I had to warn you first. We’re attacking Hogsmeade tonight.”

“Surely you mean ‘they,’ not ‘we,’” said the woman.

Lupin shook his head. “My absence would be noticed. I’m quite prominent in the pack. I’m nearly Greyback’s righthand man. Well, righthand werewolf. Look, he even gave me this muggle as a reward for my services. Sarah Briarcliff, these are my friends, Lily and James Potter, and Sirius Black.”

“Gave you?” gasped Lily.

“Like, for a Dark Revel?” said Sirius, looking pale. 

“A what?” asked Lupin.

“They’re. Um. They must just be a Death Eater thing. Never mind.”

“Anyway, Sarah’s been enormously helpful in keeping up this ruse. She can tell you more about that if she likes. I just brought her here to keep her safe and comfortable tonight. Greyback thinks she’s in a dank cave. Dumbledore’s going to be furious. He gave me very strict orders not to endanger the overall mission by rescuing any individuals. The mission’s more important. But…”

“What’s Dumbledore going to do, fire you?” laughed Sirius. “When it comes to werewolves fighting for the Light, you’ve got a monopoly. He hasn’t even fired me, and I show up to a lot of missions drunk.”

“He can use all the cannon fodder he can get,” said Lily.

“Cannon fodder?” repeated Sirius. “That’s another muggle expression, isn’t it? That’s a good one.”

“You should be negotiating for better working conditions,” added James.

“Or he should at least be paying you,” added Lily.

Lupin shook his head. “The mission’s the only important thing. I’ll pick her up some time after moonset, assuming I survive tonight’s attack. If I don’t, return Miss Briarcliff to her home of course.”

“But surely you’re not actually fighting on their side!” protested James.

“I have to be seen attacking humans tonight, or at least being attacked by them, or my cover is blown. Dumbledore’s instructions were very clear on this point.”

Sarah felt faint.

“I’ve got to go,” said Lupin. “Many of the werewolves can’t apparate, so I’ll be side-along apparating them to the Forbidden Forest. We’ll transform there, then attack the village. You three have got to get the message out, with no hint that it came from me.” 

“Of course,” said Lily. “But how should we say we know?”

“Tell Dumbledore to tell everyone that the centaurs or someone prophesied that Hogsmeade will be attacked at moonrise tonight. Tell Madam Pomfrey to check the Shrieking Shack after moonset. It’s a familiar place, so hopefully I’ll have the instinct to drag myself there once I get so badly injured that I can’t fight anymore. Which had better happen quickly.” He gave James a significant look as he said this.

“Oh Merlin, Remus,” said James. “You’re asking me to...“

“Target me specifically, yes. Seeing me fall in battle will convince any suspicious werewolves that I’m definitely not a spy, and if I survive, I’ll be even more trusted. As long as you’re targeting specific werewolves, there’s one who’s particularly suspicious of me. He thinks I act too human to be truly loyal to the werewolf cause.Tall, light-colored male, fur’s more white than grey. Scar on his left shoulder. But attack me first.”

“But Remus, there’s no way I can be certain I’ll injure you just badly enough to incapacitate you, but not badly enough to kill you.” 

“The issue might not even come up if an Auror or other Order member gets to me first. I’ll just be dead. That’s still preferable to me actually biting a human when I’m in wolf form. Anyway, I see this information is in good hands. I have to get back before I’m missed. Good luck.” He vanished with a crack.

Sirius reached his hand into the space where Lupin had been a moment before. He stood there, frozen, as Lily rushed past him to the large fireplace. She took a pinch of powder from a jar on the mantelpiece. When she threw the powder into the fire, the flames turned green. “Hogwarts Headmaster’s Office!” she said. Then she stuck her head into the flames. “Professor Dumbledore?” she called. “I hate to bother you, but I wanted to ask your opinion about decorating the nursery. You have such a good eye for color. Do you have a minute?”

From the fire, a merry voice said, “I’m flattered that you would seek my opinion, Mrs. Potter. I’ll step right through.”

“Thank you,” she said. She stepped back.

A proper wizard stepped out of the fireplace in a swirl of green flames. He had a long white beard, a pointy hat, long purple robes embroidered with stars, the works.

They watched as the flames faded from green back to orange. “Pink and blue are so cliche…” said Lily. When the last hint of green was gone her tone changed completely. “Remus says Greyback’s pack is attacking Hogsmeade at moonrise tonight,” she said in a rush. “We have to warn everyone so they can evacuate, but we can’t let anyone know where the information came from. Remus’s idea is that we could say the centaurs prophesied the attack.”

The old wizard thought for a moment. “The centaurs would not appreciate entanglement in our affairs. I know! I’ve just hired a new Divination teacher, Sybill Trelawney. I’ll tell her she revealed the information in a prophetic trance she doesn’t remember.”

“Brilliant!” said Lily. “She’ll be glad to take credit for an accurate prophecy. It’s a win-win. And tell Madam Pomfrey to check the Shrieking Shack after moonset. Remus will hopefully have an instinct to drag himself to a familiar place if he’s injured.”

“Anything else?”

“He said to target a tall light werewolf with a scar on his left shoulder who’s been suspicious of him. And also Remus wants to be targeted. He’d rather be badly injured or die than bite a human.” 

“I’m afraid Mr. Lupin’s personal preferences cannot be the sole determinant of our choices. We desperately need a spy amongst the werewolves, and he is our only possibility. He must survive this battle and resume his place in the pack. Now I must return to make preparations. You three, send patronuses to everyone you know, spreading the news of Trelawney’s prophecy. Warn non-combatants to evacuate Hogsmeade. Rally fighters to come, riding brooms, hippogriffs, or whatever other means they have to attack from the air. Sirius and James, I will expect you in Hogsmeade before moonrise. Lily, I would normally expect you to lead the charge, but not, of course, in your current condition.”

“I know, it wouldn’t do to endanger the Potter heir,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I swear, I’m going to invent a spell to get James pregnant with the next one.” 

“If anyone could do it, you could,” said Dumbledore with a twinkle in his blue eyes.

Those smiling blue eyes next focused on Sarah. “We have not yet been introduced,” he said pleasantly.

“Professor Dumbledore, this is Sarah Briarcliff,” said Lily. “She’s a muggle. Greyback gave her to Remus as a reward for his good work. She’s been helping him give the impression that he’s loyal to Greyback. He dropped her off here to keep her safe tonight.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Sarah as if she were demonstrating human behavior to Lupin’s students.

“Likewise.” Those blue eyes twinkled at her, and suddenly she found herself mentally running through her plan to kill Lupin by telling Greyback he was a spy.

Dumbledore broke eye contact, and Sarah nearly fell over. James caught her and gently lowered her to a couch. “I’m sorry, we’re not being good hosts. Living with feral werewolves must be exhausting for a human. Oh, Miffy!” he called.

With a pop, a bizarre creature suddenly materialized. It was half her height, but with a larger head that was mostly bright green eyes and huge furry ears.

“Miffy, please tend to Miss Briarcliff, our guest. Fetch her tea or whatever she likes, and prepare a guest bedroom, as she’ll be staying the night.”

“Yes, Master Potter,” said the little creature.

“Wait,” said Lily. “Before you do that, fetch a couple of doses of sober-up potion for James and Sirius. I have a lot to do tonight, and I’ll need them sober.” 

“Mistress Potter shouldn’t exert herself in her condition!”

“Your objection is noted,” said Lily dryly.

“Hey,” protested Sirius. “I only had two, maybe three—“

“Just drink it,” said Lily. Miffy had popped out of and back into existence, and was holding a bottle and two small glasses. The creature served an apparently awful-tasting beverage to both men, then took the cups back and vanished again.  

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Briarcliff,” said Dumbledore. “I regret that I do not have time now for a more thorough meeting of the minds. Lily, please do not allow Miss Briarcliff out of Potter Manor until we develop a plan for her. We cannot leave our secrets in a mind unprotected by occlumency.”

Lily nodded.

“Oh, and red and gold are perfect colors for a nursery.” Dumbledore took a pinch of powder from the jar and threw it into the fire. When the flames turned green, he stepped in, declared “Hogwarts Headmaster’s Office,” and vanished in a swirl of green fire.

Lily drew her wand from the sleeve of her beautiful green gown. “ _Expecto Patronum_!” A graceful silver doe stepped from her wand, illuminating the room with a brilliant silver light. “Alastor Moody, I have an important message from Professor Dumbledore. His new Divination professor, Sybill Trelawney, is a seer, who prophesied that Hogsmeade will be attacked by werewolves tonight. Hogsmeade must be evacuated. Aurors and other fighters must attack from the air. Coordinate with the Werewolf Capture Unit.” The silver doe galloped off into nothingness.

Lily turned to the two men. “Go on, get to work.” 

Sirius was still staring at the place from which Lupin had vanished. “We didn’t get a chance to say goodbye,” he said, his voice breaking. “This might be it. What if… He has to come back right now so I can say goodbye properly!” 

James put his hand on Sirius’s shoulder. “He’ll be fine. He has to. He’s the bravest Gryffindor I’ve ever known.”

“Brave and safe are two different things,” said Sirius.

“That reminds me,” said Lily. “Should we tell Peter?”

James burst into tense laughter. “That was a good one. Why? Battles aren’t really his thing.”

“It might be rude to make him feel left out.”

“We should warn him to stay away at least.”

“Yeah. _Expecto Patronum_!” The silver doe appeared again. “Peter, there’s a prophecy that werewolves are going to attack Hogsmeade tonight, so you’ll want to stay safely away of course. Warn everyone you know in Hogsmeade.” The silver doe cantered away. “I don’t know how that boy was sorted into Gryffindor,” she remarked.

“Too stupid for Ravenclaw,” said James with a false cheeriness. Both he and Lily were looking anxiously at Sirius, who seemed on the verge of tears.

“Too lazy for Hufflepuff,” added Lily with the same false cheer. She nudged Sirius’s shoulder. “Remus will be fine. I know he will.”

Sirius made an effort to get his emotions under control. “Not ambitious enough for Slytherin,” he finally contributed.

James and Lily laughed loudly.

“Now get to work,” said Lily.

“I can’t believe you expect me to cast a fucking Patronus charm right now,” said Sirius. “How am I supposed to think of something happy?” 

“Think of when your parents disowned you,” suggested James. 

“Yeah, that’s a good one,” said Sirius, seemingly sincere. He took a deep breath. “ _Expecto Patronum_!” A shaggy silver dog the size of a bear gallumphed out of his wand. “Madam Rosmerta, Dumbledore just told me there’s a prophecy that Hogsmeade will be attacked by werewolves tonight! Spread the news. Tell all non-combatants to evacuate, and fighters to fight from the air. Please stay safe.” He sent the huge shaggy dog gallumphing off into nothingness.

Everyone stared at Sirius. “What?” he asked indignantly.

“Your first thought is Madam Rosmerta?” said Lily.

“She knows everyone. She can tell everyone in her pub. We should warn everyone with a business there, so they can tell all their customers. Once they evacuate, all those werewolves will just be running around in a ghost town. We’ll turn the town into a trap, no one there but werewolves, MLE, and the Order.”

“That’s a good idea!” said Lily. She ran and grabbed a slim newspaper that seemed to be mostly ads. “Just about everyone there advertises in the Hogsmeade Gazette.” She took the paper apart, handing part to James and part to Sirius.

When James waved his wand and said “ _Expecto Patronum_ ,” a glowing silver stag appeared, its antlers sparkling like ice crystals. “Madam Puddifoot…” 

Sarah felt useless in this room of two wizards, one witch, and three glowing silver animals, so she was glad when the odd little huge-eyed servant appeared to offer her tea. Drinking it gave her something to do.

Finally, the three had apparently sent the message to everyone they could think of. “You two should eat a light dinner before you go,” said Lily. “And take some Pepper-Up potion. You’ll need your strength, fighting all night.” 

“It should be over faster than that,” said James. “One werewolf pack against the combined aerial forces of the Aurors, the Werewolf Capture Unit, and the Order, when we’ve had warning and time to prepare? It’ll be a massacre.”

Sirius took a shaky breath.

“Except for Remus of course,” James assured him.

“Miffy, we’re ready for dinner,” called Lily. “No wine.”  By the time they walked through the luxurious manor to the dining room, Miffy was just putting the finishing touches on the table. 

The food was extraordinary, but the conversation wasn’t appetizing. “We’ll start off in the air of course,” said James. “Then as soon as we find and incapacitate Remus, we take him to the Shrieking Shack. I’m not going to count on his ability to drag himself there. We lock him in, then get back in the air.”

“Should I ride my broom or my motorbike, you think?” asked Sirius. 

“This isn’t just an Order mission,” said Lily. “Aurors should be there too, so it might not be the best time to flaunt an illegal vehicle.”

“I suppose you’re right,” said Sirius. “Shouldn’t we be attacking them now? They must be gathering in the Forbidden Forest already.”

“Even in their human forms, they can hide amongst trees much better than we can, and flying in a dense forest is asking for trouble,” said James. “I don’t want to knock myself out on a tree before the battle even starts. That would be embarrassing. Once they’re transformed, though, they can’t fly, can’t cast spells, can’t apparate, not really used to a town, they’re sitting ducks as long as we stay in the air. It doesn’t seem sporting.”

“Moonrise in half an hour,” said Lily.

“Let’s go,” said Sirius, who hadn’t eaten much. The men got up and left to get a couple of brooms. Lily got a couple of pouches.

“I wish I were going with you,” said Lily. “All I can do is prepare you. Here are some potions.” She handed them the pouches, which they tucked in the pockets of their black robes. “Don’t try to apparate if you get injured! Here, take portkeys. They’ll take you back here.” She took a couple of bedraggled-looking feathers from a vase on the mantelpiece and handed them to James and Sirius, who pocketed them. “The activation phrase is Love Nest.”

James also grabbed a black case, which fit in a huge pocket of his robe. “We’ll see how these work in a real battle.”

“I don't know, James,” said Sirius. “They just don’t seem practical.”

“When did you develop an interest in practicality, Sirius? You’re just jealous. I probably won’t have an opportunity to use them of course, as we should be fighting from the air the whole time.”

“Kiss for luck!” said Lily. She gave James a long kiss.

“I am a very lucky man,” said James when she finally broke the kiss.

”Don’t you forget it,” said Lily.

“Hey!” said Sirius. “Doesn’t this tasty dish of cannon fodder get a hero’s farewell too? I might be flying to my death here.” Sirius looked at Sarah with big grey puppy dog eyes, then turned his profile to her and tapped his cheek expectantly. He really was very handsome, just as Lupin had said. She took a hesitant step towards him. “Too slow,” he laughed, pulling away from her and baring his perfect teeth in a wicked grin. “You snooze, you lose. You just missed what might have been your last ever chance to kiss the irreplaceable Sirius Black. Come on James. Meet you at the Shrieking Shack. Last one there’s a rotten flobberworm!” He vanished with a crack. James vanished an instant later.

“Isn’t anyone going to play chess tonight?” squeaked a knight on the chessboard.


	4. Chapter 4

Sarah woke when she heard Lily shouting. “Sirius! Quick, drink this blood-replenishing potion. Hold still. I have to clean these wounds.”

“Ow!”

“I said hold still, or I’ll hold you still with an Imperius curse.” 

“That’s illegal!”

Sarah got out of the four-poster bed and padded downstairs in the black silk pajamas Lily had loaned her. Sirius was lying on the living room floor, bleeding from numerous wounds. Lily was crouched over him, busy with her wand and potion bottles. 

“Who you gonna tell? ‘While Lily was cleaning my werewolf bites…’ I don’t think so. You wouldn’t feel any pain at least. Should I?”

“Don’t you have any pain potion?”

“I’m really low after that Death Eater attack two days ago, and I’m saving the last of it for James when he gets back.”

“You’re saying your husband is the sort of wimp who would demand a pain potion just for a few werewolf bites? I’ll tell him what a low opinion you have of him.”

“You do that. Sorry, I need to concentrate, this is a deep one.”

Sirius suddenly let out a wordless scream. “Oh fuck that hurt,” he added. “Excuse my language.” Sweat was running down his pale skin, and he was panting. “Hey, how do I know you’re the real Lily? Maybe the real Lily got captured by Death Eaters, and I’m actually being tortured by an imposter. You’re my mum in disguise.”

“Shut up, Padfoot. Oh, Sarah, you’re here. Distract this wimp for me.”

Sarah timidly put her hand on one of Sirius’s tightly-clenched fists. “You’ll be all right,” she said.

He fixed his bright grey eyes on hers. “Aren’t you glad you have a second chance to kiss me? Don't be so slow this time.”

“For most patients, I’d say that if he’s flirting, that’s a sign that he’s still alive, but Sirius might be an exception,” remarked Lily. “I’m sure his corpse will flirt with the worms in his grave for some time after he’s buried.”

“You wound me, Lily. I am not a flirt. I’ll have you know that I am madly in love with whatshername here.

“Sarah,” said Sarah.

“Right. Sarah and I are engaged to be married. Didn’t you see the announcement in the Prophet? My family all died of shock when they got the wedding invitations, so my darling Sarah and I will live happily ever after with all our cute little half-blood babies. Half of them will be squibs, but we won’t care. We won’t drown them. We won’t drown any of them.” He gripped Sarah’s hand crushingly as Lily cleaned another bite wound. Thanks to Lily’s potions and spells, Sirius’s wounds were gradually turning from bloody, jagged rips to what looked like week-old scars.

“What should our color theme be for the wedding?” asked Sarah.

“Red and gold,” said Sirius. “Definitely. I hope you have a lot of relatives, since mine aren’t coming because of all the aforementioned sudden deaths.”

“Should we hire a band?”

“Of course. How about the Ramones?”

Sarah laughed.

“You prefer Black Sabbath? Anything for you, love. I’ll get Ozzy to sober up and rejoin the band.” 

“How about Queen?”

“Yes! Perfect! We Are the Champions! I always thought that was most beautiful bridal march ever written.”

“This is the last one,” said Lily, swabbing out a deep gash in his thigh.

“Honeymoon in Vegas?” suggested Sarah. 

“Hell yeah. You’re not jealous of those showgirls, are you? They mean nothing to me, they just needed a place to sleep, and our hotel room is so huge.” 

“Done,” said Lily. “Thank you, Sarah.” Next, she looked at Sirius’s ripped and bloody clothes. “We might as well fix these while we’re waiting for James to come back.”

“What are you babbling about, witch? You patched me up well enough to rejoin the fight. I can’t let James and Remus have fun without me.” He got up, grabbed a bottle from Lily’s potion collection, gulped it down, and dropped the bottle on the floor. He took another bedraggled feather from the vase, tucked it in a pocket, then turned to Sarah. “Kiss for the brave hero?” His breath smelled spicy and strange as he drew his face close to hers and whispered, “Nah, that would be bad luck before the wedding. See you later, alligator.” He vanished with a loud crack. It hurt her ears, so close.

“What the hell?” said Sarah.

“Sirius is just like that,” said Lily with an irritated expression as she picked up the bottle he’d dropped. “Don’t take him too seriously.”

“Those were werewolf bites,” said Sarah. “Sirius just got multiple werewolf bites. So he’s a werewolf now, just like Lupin.” 

“No,” said Lily. She narrowed her emerald eyes at Sarah. “It’s complicated, and I can’t tell you all of it. James and Sirius went to school with Remus. With some illegal and very dangerous magical experimentation, they developed a magical immunity to lycanthropy. Even Dumbledore doesn’t know. Which reminds me: don’t let Dumbledore look you in the eyes. He’s a legilimens. He’ll read your mind if you don’t know occlumency.”

“I thought Dumbledore was on your side!” 

“Oh, Dumbledore’s the leader of the Light, no question. It’s just that he’s a goodie-two-shoes. I tried asking him a simple question about protecting my baby via a sacrifice, and he wouldn’t even talk to me about it. He won’t have anything to do with Dark magic. I’m having to do all the research myself. I figure there’s nothing wrong with a little Dark magic, if it serves the greater good.”

“That seems sensible.”

“Anyway, you’ll need to be obliviated after tonight, since you know too much, and I can’t let Dumbledore be the one to do it, because once he has access to your memories, he’ll know how James and Sirius developed their immunity to lycanthropy, and they don’t want him to know that. I could do it, or Remus.”

“Obliviated?” She didn’t like the sound of that.

“We’ll erase some of your memories. That would be much better than the information about Remus’s spying activities getting out if you happened to get captured by Death Eaters. They’d read your mind, or torture the information out of you just for fun.”

“Torture? But if I’m being tortured, and I don’t have the information they think I have—“ 

“They’ll kill you either way. Let’s try to get some sleep. You don’t have to wait up for James and Sirius. Go back to your room. I’ll see if I can nap on the couch here. The portkeys are set to bring them here. I want to know the instant they get back.”

“I could stay on the other couch—“

“As long as you don’t talk. I can’t deal right now. Something must have gone seriously wrong.”

Sarah sat on the couch that didn’t have a rumpled sheet on it and watched Lily put her collection of potions in order. Then she watched Lily pace. A few sparks flew from the ends of her red hair whenever she ran out of room and spun to charge the other way.

After a long time of getting no rest at all, a bloodied James suddenly appeared in the living room. He was clutching the paw of an enormous shaggy black dog, which looked at least as injured. One of Lily’s bedraggled feathers was tucked between the dog’s toes, held there by James. James’s other hand held what looked like two large candelabras made of daggers, dripping with gore. He dropped them on the floor with a clatter. 

“Help Padfoot first,” panted James. “It’s bad.” Blood soaked his hair and had dripped down his face, but he was at least conscious.

Lily rushed to help the dog, which was unconscious and gushing blood onto the floor. “Stay with us, Padfoot,” she said as she worked fast with wand and potions.

James got out of her way, rummaged through the potion kit and drank something, then set about trying to heal himself. His shredded black robes and shirt revealed claw marks across his back, and the back of his thigh had been bitten. Both wounds were hard for him to reach. He winced as he tried to twist his bloody back to see his wounds.

“There’s some pain potion,” said Sarah to him quietly, trying to be useful.

He looked at the few drops of pain potion left in the bottle. “No, Sirius will need this more than I when he comes to.” He put the bottle down and picked up a different one. “Miffy!” he called. 

The little creature appeared with a pop. “Master Potter is hurt!” it screamed.

“Please clean this bite out with this,” James said. “Before you heal it with magic. My stag form might be immune to lycanthropy, but who knows what other filth is in a werewolf’s mouth.” 

“Master Potter should be more careful!” fretted the creature as it worked. “Master Potter is the last of his blood, and his heir not even born yet!”

“There seems to be plenty of Potter blood,” James remarked, looking at the floor, red and slick. “Ow!”

“Master should not joke about such things,” said Miffy firmly.

“Yes Miffy.” His eyes searched the room for a distraction and settled on Sarah. “I’m sorry we’re not providing a more restful environment for you, Miss Briarcliff. I wish I could say that Potter hospitality is usually better than this but frankly this is pretty normal around here, at least in wartime. It’s a wonder Miffy puts up with us. We very much appreciate all she does for us.” Sarah was glad to hear the pronoun, as she had no other clue of Miffy’s gender. 

“Master Potter could show his appreciation by not running into danger all the time,” grumbled Miffy. “Blood all over my nice floor!” She stepped back from James, now that his wounds looked like they’d been healing for a week, and directed her attention to the floor.

“That can wait,” said James. “Help Padfoot first.” Lily was still hard at work on the injured dog.

“That dirty beast should be an outside pet,” Miffy grumbled.

“Miffy!” 

“He wouldn’t want me healing him,” she explained. “He’d be bawling at me to keep my nasty house elf hands off him if he were in a state to talk, yes he would.”

“I know. He’s had some bad experiences with house elves, but I’m sure we’ll bring him around eventually. He’s my friend. I’m ordering you to heal him. So do it.”

The little elf grudgingly joined Lily in healing the dog’s numerous wounds. She had no wand, but didn’t seem to need one.

“Can I help?” James asked Lily.

“Miffy and I can handle it,” she said. “You need to rest. Go to bed before you collapse. That Pepper-Up will wear off any minute.”

Instead, James, with some Scourgify spells, cleaned the blood off the two vicious-looking candelabras of daggers. Then he folded them compactly, for they had an ingenious design, (Swiss army candelabras?) and stored them in their black case. Next he directed his Scourgify spells to the bloody floor, an action which offended Miffy greatly. 

“Master Potter must rest!” she screeched. “Master Potter must go to bed right now and stay there until Miffy serves him breakfast, oh yes he must!”

“Now I’ve got two green-eyed harridans bossing me around,” James grumbled as he stumbled to the stairs.

“Don’t think I didn’t hear that,” said Lily.

“Outnumbered in my own home… This baby’d better be a boy. I could use an ally.”

“Go to bed, James.”

“Whatever you say, Lily. I’m not obeying my house elf, here, I’m obeying my wife. Just to be clear.”

“Goodnight, love,” Lily said, not looking up from the wounded dog.

“Goodnight.”

“It be morning,” said Miffy. “Sun be coming up.”

“Goodnight,” said James firmly. “I’m the head of this household, and I say it’s still night. It’s so dark.” 

The sky outside the large windows was brightening, but no one argued. James took one step up the stairs and paused. He started to sway. 

Miffy looked up, and, with a sudden gesture towards James, caught him as he collapsed, cushioning him with a wordless spell before he hit the floor. 

“Come back down to help Padfoot after you tuck James into bed,” said Lily.

Miffy nodded, then levitated James upstairs.

“You might as well go to bed too, Sarah,” said Lily. “We won’t hear any news about Remus until some time after moonset.”

“Goodnight,” said Sarah. 

“Hm,” said Lily. 

Sarah grudgingly went, for she couldn’t think of any way she could help here. If Sirius died while in dog form, would his corpse stay in that form, or revert back to human? They might need a differently-shaped coffin. With rhinestones on it, for his funeral in Vegas, where they’d planned their honeymoon. There must be pet funeral parlors there. She did not just think that.

She wished she’d brought that marmalade jar full of flames. What if her captor died in wolf form? Who would attend his funeral? Would the mourners get along with each other? She was going back to bed to sleep. Very funny, thinking she could sleep. Those blades had been covered in gore. Her captor had specifically requested that his friend James stab him with his dagger-tipped antlers, because he’d rather die than bite people. If her captor died, she could go free. That was what she’d been hoping would happen. It was nothing to get upset about. Really it wasn’t.

What kind of stupid guest room wasn’t supplied with a box of tissues? Oh, here were some fine linen handkerchiefs. They would do.

——-

She must have slept eventually, since she woke to the smell of frying bacon. The windows of this guest room looked out on a semi-wild orchard, illuminated by midday sun.

The shower was luxurious, and there was a dressing gown as plush as a teddy bear. The clothes she’d been wearing for two weeks straight were clean and folded, as she’d grown accustomed to, but more neatly, which she wouldn’t have thought possible. There was also a beautiful dark blue gown laid out for her, long and high-necked, in the style Lily had worn last night, so she was being offered a choice. She picked the gown. When in Rome. Apparently, Sarah was approximately the same size as the non-pregnant Lily, so the borrowed gown fit. She had second thoughts when she couldn’t see her feet going down the stairs, but bacon was calling her so she charged boldly ahead.

James was alone in the dining room, eating eggs and bacon, drinking tea, and reading the paper as if he hadn’t just fought in a battle. “Good morning Sarah,” he said, smiling, putting down his paper and gesturing graciously to a chair. “Please join me for breakfast.”

“Good morning,” Sarah said weakly. She sat. There was an elaborate feast on the table.

“We didn’t know what you like for breakfast so Miffy just made pretty much everything. Help yourself. Or she could make something different if you prefer.”

“Where are Lily and Sirius?” She knew better than to ask about Lupin.

“Lily’s set up the living room like a hospital ward, and hasn’t left, although Sirius is out of danger now. Well, for Sirius. He hasn’t regained consciousness yet, or transformed back to human. Just as well.” He stood. “I’ll see if I can get Lily to eat something. Maybe she’ll come to the table now that you’re here.” He left for the living room, limping only slightly.

Sarah heard voices from the living room surprisingly well, as if through an intercom. “Lily, come eat. You’ve done what you can. It would be most improper for the lady of the house not to join her guest for breakfast.”

“You’re going to tell me that’s another one of those old pureblood customs, isn’t it?”

“Of course.”

“I swear you make up half of those on the spot.” 

“Only half? It’s like you hardly know me.”

Lily let out a small laugh. “All right, I’ll eat.” 

“And then sleep. Because it’s a terribly stuffy old pureblood custom that pregnant women must eat and sleep.”

The two of them soon entered the dining room, supporting each other through James’s limp and Lily’s exhaustion. 

“Good morning Sarah,” said Lily.

“Good morning Lily.”

Lily gestured at Sarah’s place setting, no doubt noticing that she hadn’t started eating yet, not knowing the etiquette. “Use whatever fucking fork you want. I think Miffy puts so many out just to intimidate people.” She put a slice of toast on her plate, but didn’t look at it after that. “How has the Prophet managed to twist this?” she asked James, looking at his newspaper.

“Well, they couldn’t pretend it didn’t happen, but they’re making it out to be much less serious than it was. Listen to this: ‘The Ministry assures all citizens of Magical Britain that the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures are more than adequate to handle these pests. Anyone with knowledge of the identity of the vigilantes is encouraged to report them anonymously to the Ministry.’ We used to be brave volunteers who happened to be on the scene, and now we’re vigilantes. Alastor was right, the Death Eaters are infiltrating pretty high up in the Ministry, not just the Auror Department.” He suddenly tossed the paper aside. “What am I doing, reading the news to my pregnant wife? You’re supposed to be thinking calm, pleasant thoughts. And eating.”

“I want answers. How did you and Sirius get so badly hurt? You were supposed be airborne, shooting spells at werewolves on the ground. It should have been a slaughter.”

“It wasn’t just werewolves. They were joined by Death Eaters. No mention of them in the paper of course. They were fighting from the sky too. I couldn’t tell friend from foe until they shot at us. My broom got destroyed when I crashed. I’ve been meaning to upgrade anyway.”

“Same here,” came a weak voice. “What model are you looking at?”

“The Nimbus 1500 looks great. They say it’s even faster than the 1001, and can make tighter turns. Sirius! You’re awake!” James ran to the living room, followed closely by Lily and Sarah. 

Sirius was lying on what appeared to be a very large dog bed on the floor. His legs hung over the edge. “If we get identical brooms,” he said weakly, “then we’ll really see who’s the better flyer.”

Lily drew her wand and scanned Sirius’s various injuries.

“I thought the better flyer was the one who managed to stay in the air longest last night,” taunted James.

Lily tilted the last few drops of pain potion, and a couple of other potions as well, into Sirius’s mouth.

“The better flyer had all his blood relatives out to get him last night,” said Sirius bitterly once Lily was done with him. His lips curled in disgust. “All eager to prove their dedication to the cause by killing the blood traitor. I don’t know if it was my brother Regulus or my cousin Bellatrix who shot me down, but it was a relief to be down among the werewolves instead of in the air with the Blacks.”

James gently put his hand on Sirius’s shoulder. “I’m your brother now,” he said firmly. “Don’t call Regulus your brother.”

“You call me brother, yet you didn’t wake me for breakfast. Did you at least save me any bacon?”

“Brotherly love goes only so far. I ate it all, sorry. You just get cold porridge.”

Sirius tried to growl, but it turned into a laugh.

“You should be able to eat,” concluded Lily. “If someone feeds you. Your front legs, sorry, your arms, still have some healing to do. I’ll charm this dog bed to carry you to the dining room.” She pointed her wand at the bed.

“No, I’ll transfigure it,” said James, drawing his own wand and putting a restraining hand on Lily’s arm. “You need to rest.” 

She nodded, sheathed her wand, and stepped back.

James’s handsome face twisted into a grin, then took on an expression of intense concentration. The dog bed under Sirius reformed from an oval into a rectangle, longer and narrower to fit his human form. It sprouted poles from its four corners, which raised it up to put Sirius at about waist height. Each pole was tarnished brass, with a helical twist that reminded Sarah of something. Then James directed his attention to each pole in turn. The first thickened and bulged until it sprouted a statue of a stag, in a simplified, cartoonish style, with chipping brown paint on the body and tarnished silver antlers. It seemed to have the brass pole impaling it through the middle, and Sarah realized what it reminded her of: a carousel horse.

“Is this really necessary?” asked Lily, but she was smiling.

“Of course it is,” said Sirius.

“Don’t interrupt the artist at work,” scolded James. He moved on to the next pole, and soon it was impaling a statue of a huge shaggy black dog, with a bright pink tongue lolling goofily from its mouth.

The third pole soon impaled a large brownish grey wolf. James then knelt, with some discomfort, to create a cute brown rat, which clung to the fourth pole as if trying to hide behind it. Then he stepped back to admire his work.

“That was unnecessarily flashy,” said Lily, although she was smiling.

“Unnecessarily Flashy is my middle name,” said James. “It’s an old family name, very traditional among the ancient and noble houses. You wouldn’t know that of course, so I’m glad to fill you in on these finer points of pureblood culture. Hey! Wouldn’t it make a great name for the baby? It’s unisex!”

Lily shook her head, laughing.

Sirius admired his litter. “Nice, but why are we being stabbed through the heart?”

“Haven’t you ridden a carousel?” asked Lily. “These are in the style of carousel horses.”

“This is a muggle thing, isn’t it?” complained Sirius. “You know Regulus and I were never allowed—“

“We’ll redo your childhood when this war is over,” promised James. “We’ll all ride a carousel. Maybe for your birthday, the war might be over by November. If not this year, then the next. Anyway, now all this thing needs is wheels so I can push it to the dining room,” he added, pointing his wand. “I’ll just give each animal roller skates.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” scolded Lily, pushing his wand aside and drawing her own.

“You’re telling me not to be ridiculous?” asked James. “Do you have any idea who you married?”

“You can’t put wheels on a work of art like this as if it were a grocery trolley. This calls for charms.” With four taps of her wand, she had the four sculptures prancing like animatronic circus animals, the rat seeming to strain to lift its pole. They smoothly carried Sirius into the dining room, where they once again stood as still as statues. “Of course our breakfast is cold by now.” She pointed her wand at various dishes. “Thermos.” Fragrant steam rose from them again. Then Lily loaded her plate and ate. Her smile made her look much less tired than she’d looked before.

James positioned himself by Sirius’s head and got a forkful of bacon. “Open up the goal hoop, here comes the quaffle!”

“At least let me keep my dignity.”

“What dignity? And I’ve got to practice for feeding a baby.”

“I should fling porridge into your hair. I remember when Regulus was little—“

James stuffed a big piece of bacon into Sirius’s mouth.

“Thank you,” said Sirius when he had finished chewing.

“So how did it go?” asked Lily. “Is Remus all right?”

“We looked all over for him from the sky,” said James, as he continued to stuff breakfast into Sirius, “but didn’t find him until after we crashed and transformed. Our animagus forms have better senses of smell than our human forms of course, so that helped.”

“‘We’ found him, he says,” mocked Sirius, refusing a bite of egg. “I found him.”

“You had the advantage of crashing first,” said James, stuffing the forkfull of egg in. “So anyway, Padfoot and I herded him in the direction of the Shrieking Shack, but he kept getting distracted by the smell of humans.”

“I’m afraid I had to bite him pretty badly,” said Sirius.

“And then this little light reddish wolf started attacking us, really ferociously. It was weird, since the wolves were just going after the humans of course, they were mostly ignoring us except when we got between them and the humans. They even attacked Death Eaters who’d been knocked off their brooms.” He laughed.

“That’s what they get for allying with feral werewolves,” laughed Sirius. He seemed to be imitating some snob’s voice, although it was hard to tell as his normal voice was pretty upper-crust already. “‘Oh Sirius, you’re not quite refined enough to associate with us, so we’ll invite this feral werewolf pack to our evening soirée instead.’ Fucking arseholes.” 

“You’re friends with a werewolf too you know,” James pointed out.

“Yeah, but he’s not feral. There’s a big difference. Remus has far better manners than I, most of the time. Last night being the— You know, last night wasn’t even an exception, considering that we were acting at least as savage as he. We were absolute beasts,” he said proudly. “So anyway, this little reddish wolf—“

“I impaled him on my blades, and it was hard getting him unstuck without hands, but no way was I going to transform back just then—“

“So I pulled him off Prongs’s blades for him, and then I bit Moony by the scruff of the neck and dragged him to the Shack, because I have a practical animagus form, unlike some people—“ 

“You wish you had antlers too, Padfoot. Which one of us killed more werewolves, huh? And without having to taste them.”

“Oh shut up. If it weren’t for my idea to tip your antlers with blades, you still wouldn’t be good for anything but standing around looking majestic.” 

“That was not your idea.”

“Yes it was.”

“Yes, but you were joking. It was my idea to actually do it.”

“So is Remus OK?” demanded Lily.

“So I was dragging him along, and all these wolves kept attacking me, but I didn’t want to let go of him of course, so I was basically weaponless without use of my teeth—“

“So I, with my mighty blades, sharp as the sword of Godric Gryffindor himself, defended my helpless friend. Werewolves were dropping right and left.” 

“Yes yes, very heroic. You kept needing me to let go of Moony to get werewolf corpses unstuck from your antlers.” 

“The design might need some refinement. Anyway, we got him to the Shack, and then Padfoot transformed back to human just long enough to cast a Patronus to tell Madam Pomfrey we’d seen Remus drag himself there from the safety of the air, and then we got back to the fight. The Death Eaters had cast an anti-disapparition ward, so the humans who got knocked off their brooms were at the mercy of the werewolves. Padfoot and I were pretty busy. The wolves had started off just fighting us when we got between them and their human intended victims, but eventually they seemed to be targeting us.”

“Was there an anti-portkey ward as well?” asked Lily.

James and Sirius exchanged a glance. “Well, it seemed like a great opportunity to kill a lot of werewolves, so we didn’t actually check for a while,” said James. “We didn’t even have to hunt them down, they came to us.” 

“It was very convenient,” reported Sirius cheerfully.

“They were having to climb over the corpses of their fallen packmates to get to us, which made them clumsy.” 

“It was awesome. But then I was busy pulling another werewolf corpse off Prongs’s stupid antlers when I got attacked from behind, and I don't know what happened then—“ 

“—and I knew the jig was up, once Padfoot had passed out from blood loss, since there was no way I could do this alone, so once the corpse of the wolf that had attacked Padfoot was stuck on my antlers and I couldn’t get it off, I transformed back to human—“

“You what?!” squawked Lily.

“For just long enough to put your portkey in Padfoot’s paw and say ‘Love Nest,’ and I think at least two werewolves crashed into each other in the space we disappeared from.”

“You transformed back to human—“ started Lily, outraged.

“Well I couldn’t speak the activation phrase in stag form, could I? Or even access the portkey of course.”

“I’ll need to develop a different kind,” she said, “if you’re going to keep doing this sort of thing.” 

“Of course we are.” 

“We’re Gryffindors.”

“You know you’d have done the same.”

“True,” she admitted. “Although a doe isn’t the most ferocious fighting form to have in a battle.” She thought a moment. “We should make some armor for Padfoot.”

“Now you tell me!” said Sirius.

“It just occurred to me. I didn’t know you were planning to make a habit of fighting in your animal form.” 

“I bet we could make some really cool-looking armor. I want to look at some medieval stuff for inspiration. Maybe Japanese. Should it be black, you think? I look good in black.”

“How it looks isn’t the important part!” snapped Lily.

“What’s the point of wearing armor if I don’t look good in it?” 

“I’m wondering that myself,” said Lily dryly. “I can’t think of a reason not to let you just get eaten by werewolves next time.”

“James, I think your wife’s defective. She’s missing her sense of humor. Is she still under warranty?”

“James, I suppose it would be silly of me to complain that your pet dog doesn’t get my jokes. That’s really the least of his faults. He’s barely housetrained.”

“Don’t make me pick sides here,” pleaded James, laughing. 

“Bros before does,” rhymed Sirius firmly.

A silver hen fluttered out of nothingness and landed by Sirius. It opened its beak and spoke in a woman’s voice. “Sirius Black, I thought you’d want to know that a friend of yours is here. He’s unconscious, and probably will be for a while, but he should survive.”

“Yes!” Sirius tried to jump up, but Lily held him down. She suddenly didn’t look exhausted at all.

“Don’t even think about getting up, and you know what would happen if Madam Pomfrey saw you covered in werewolf bites. You’re not visiting Remus until you’re better.”

“Aargh! Why do you always have to be right? Put my wand in my hand, I can’t move my arm.” 

James drew Sirius’s wand for him and handed it to him. 

“Expecto Patronum!” The huge shaggy dog was even brighter than before. It was nearly painful to look at. Its wagging tail was a glowing blur. “Madam Pomfrey, thank you! I am madly in love with you. Tell me when he wakes up.” The dog went galumphing off. “James, could I borrow your owl? I need to place an owl-order to Honeydukes. The Hogwarts hospital wing is about to get a huge delivery of chocolates.”

“Oh thank God Remus is alive,” said Sarah, after James had gone off for a Honeydukes owl-order form.

Lily looked at Sarah curiously. “Did Remus tell you about his mission?”

“No!” said Sarah. “I thought he was loyal to Greyback ever since I was captured. It was a shock to find he was actually a spy once I got here. He really gave no clue at all.” 

“Phenomenally good at keeping secrets, Remus is,” said Sirius admiringly. “Of course, he’s been practicing since he was a wee lad.”

“You realize that since Remus survived, he’ll be heading back to the pack, and you’ll have to go with him to maintain his cover.” 

“Of course I realize,” said Sarah.

“Are you willing to do that?”

Sarah nodded. “You can’t just send him back there alone.” 

“He’d be better off without the distraction of having a human to protect, but we couldn’t explain your disappearance to Greyback,” apologized Lily. 

“I’m going back. I understand how important it is that I go.”

Lily narrowed her emerald eyes at Sarah again. “How can you understand? This isn’t your war. You don’t know what we’re fighting for.” 

“You’re fighting against werewolves, so you’ve got to be the good guys,” said Sarah. “It doesn’t seem that complicated.”

“Werewolves are just a small part of this war. When you say you’re willing to go back, that means you’re willing to die for us, for people you don’t really know, for a cause you don’t fully understand. You realize that.” 

She made it sound so stupid when she put it like that. “Yes!” said Sarah, trying to sound brave, but probably just sounding irritated. “If you can all be so brave, I can be too.”

“Don’t argue with the girl, Lily,” said Sirius. “Gryffindors don’t have a monopoly on bravery.” 

James returned with a candy shop order form, and a quill and bottle of ink. He sat by Sirius to fill it in for him, but first he addressed Lily. “If you’ve had enough breakfast, go to bed.”

“I know, I’ve got to gestate the Potter heir properly,” she said with an eye roll.

“I’m saying this for your sake, Lily, not for the baby’s. Please. You deserve to be taken care of too.”

“James never would have married you had he known you’d someday get dark circles under your eyes like this,” said Sirius.

James picked up his newspaper, searched Sirius for a place that wasn’t already injured, and whacked him. “Bad dog,” he said. 

Sirius whimpered.

“All right, I’ll go to bed, if only to get away from Sirius,” said Lily. “James, take care not to let Sarah out of the grounds.” Lily left.

“You know what Remus likes,” said Sirius to James. “Get him the usual, those massive extra-dark bars. Throw in some boxed assortments for Madam Pomfrey and whoever else is stuck in the hospital wing.” James filled out the form. “Who’s turn is it to pay, mine? It’s been so long. Bring that form closer so I can tap the Gringotts authorization field.”

James hesitated. “Didn’t you pay last time?”

“Don’t argue with a wounded animal, James, or I’ll bite your hand off.”

James let Sirius pay by tapping the form with his wand, an action that required very little hand movement. Then James rolled the form and stood. “I’m off to the owlery. Back in a moment. Sirius, is it safe to leave you with Sarah for a minute?”

“You can’t accuse me of stealing hearts when girls just leave them lying around.”

“I’ll be back soon,” James promised Sarah. Then, after a warning look at Sirius, he left.

Sarah and Sirius looked at each other. Sirius gave her a devilish smile. “Would you please be so kind as to scratch my head? I can’t, you see, what with my heroically-acquired injuries.”

This was probably a bad idea, but… “Where?”

“Left side, above my ear.”

She scratched. This was a man who knew how to use conditioner. His hair was as beautiful as the rest of him.

Sirius closed his eyes. He had eyelashes that many women and some horses would envy. He groaned as if in an indecent amount of pleasure. “Oh yes! That’s it! Perfect! Oh don’t stop. Now move around a bit, the rest wants scratching too.”

Sarah did. “Like this?”

“Oh Merlin yes.”

“I wanted to thank you,” said Sarah. “For saving Lupin. For getting him out of the battle even though you had to hurt him to do it.”

Sirius scoffed. “I don’t need thanks for that. He’s my friend. And the only werewolf the Order’s got. He’s much more valuable to the Order than I am. My only use, aside from my decorative value of course, is that my family’s so determined to kill me, they get distracted and clumsy whenever I enter a battle. They neglect other targets to focus on me. Maybe the Order should use me as bait. Just set me out somewhere, looking all pretty and vulnerable, lie in wait, and pick off my family when they come to kill the blood-traitor. I’ll suggest that to Dumbledore.”

“That’s so horrible. Your own family! Surely they must still care for you on some level.” 

“Apparently not.”

“And you for them. I mean, your brother—“

His cold grey eyes sprang open. “Regulus isn’t my brother anymore. He’s made that very clear. Stop that. Don’t touch me.”

Sarah extracted her hand from his silky hair.

James returned, looking cheerful. “Remus should soon be well-supplied with chocolate,” he assured Sirius. Then he turned to Sarah. “Did he behave himself in my absence?”

Sarah nodded.

“Oh dear,” said James. “He must be at death’s door. Anyway Sarah, as you’ll be staying with us until Remus’s return, what entertainment can Potter Manor offer you?”

“I don’t want to be any trouble,” said Sarah.

“I know what trouble is, and you are not it,” said James.

“I don’t know,” interrupted Sirius. “A pretty girl can be a lot of trouble.” 

“I’m headed to the library to research spells to use for armor, and possibly an off switch for Sirius,” said James.

“Hey!”

“You may join me in the library if you like, Sarah. I hope you can find some book to interest you.” 

“Sure, thanks,” said Sarah.

“I’ll be back soon with some books on magical armor,” James promised Sirius. “Please don’t trash the place while I’m gone.”

“That sounds like a challenge.”

James shook his head at Sirius, laughing, then led Sarah to Potter Manor’s beautiful, large library. “There are some novels on those shelves over there, if you like that sort of thing,” he said. “My father had a weakness for romances. Most of the rest are esoteric grimoires and potions books and such, which would be dry reading.”

“I… First I want to thank you. For taking care of Lupin. As well as you could under the circumstances.” 

James looked surprised. “I don’t need thanks for that. Remus is my friend. And a vital spy, more important to the war effort than I. I’d die for him,” he said matter-of-factly.

“It must have been hard, saving him by taking him out of the battle, by stabbing him.”

James nodded. “Hopefully Greyback’s pack will accept my brutality as proof that Remus is definitely on their side, not ours.” 

“It’s an interesting parallel that Sirius’s brother and cousin were so determined to shoot him down.”

James stared at her. The pupils of his hazel eyes narrowed to pinpricks. 

“I’m just saying,” Sarah continued, “since we know that being particularly targeted doesn’t actually prove which side someone’s on—“ 

“Don’t you dare,” said James, his voice cold fury. “Don’t dare call Regulus Sirius’s brother. Sirius is my brother, my chosen brother.” The atmosphere in the library changed, as if a powerful storm was gathering. James the gracious host was gone, replaced by James the angry and powerful wizard. His hair, which had been tousled before, stood up as if an electric charge were building inside him.

Sarah was afraid. “I’m sorry, I just thought—“

“You don’t know anything about us. Don’t presume to speak on matters of which you know nothing. Sirius cannot be the traitor.”

“Why?” There was a fine line between brave and stupid, and Sarah was pretty sure it was far behind her by now.

“He just… He cannot. He’s my brother. My parents as good as adopted him when his parents disowned him. Don’t speak of this again.” He turned to the shelves he’d identified as esoteric grimoires. The tension in the air slowly dissipated as James selected some books. Then he left without saying goodbye or so much as looking at Sarah.

Sarah spent the afternoon in the library. She tried to read but couldn’t concentrate. When would they hear from Remus?

Finally, Lily entered, looking refreshed. “Did James just abandon you in here all afternoon while he and Sirius worked on armor designs? That seems uncharacteristically inhospitable for him. He can hardly pass that off as an old pureblood custom.”

“It could have been worse. I think I offended him.” 

“What? How? He has skin as thick as a dragon’s. There’s no way to get an insult through, and believe me, I’ve tried.”

“How well do you know Sirius?”

“Better than I’d like to. Of all of James’s friends, Sirius is my least favorite. Why?” 

That boded well. “I was just thinking. Sirius and James targeted Remus specifically because Remus is a spy, and they wanted to look convincing. And Sirius’s brother and cousin targeted Sirius specifically…” she waited for Lily to fill in the rest.

Lily did. “That’s a very interesting idea.”

Sarah waited.

“And you were fool enough to share your suspicions with James, who considers Sirius a brother.” Lily shook her head, laughing. “You’ll have to apologize before dinner, or mealtime will be unbearable. Goblets will shatter just from the tension in the air. Tell James you spoke out of ignorance, and now realize how wrong you were.” 

“Do you think I’m wrong?”

“We know there must be a spy in the Order,” said Lily. “Sirius though… Well, the fact that he’s the last guy we’d suspect would be the perfect cover. Thank you for sharing your suspicions with me at least. I’ll tell Dumbledore to keep an eye on him. We can’t be too careful.”


	5. Chapter 5

Sarah, with Lily’s encouragement, dared to leave the library. She found James and Sirius in the living room. Lily hung back and waited. Sarah had no chance of talking to James without Sirius, as they were inseparable, flipping through books and sketching designs on parchments scattered around the living room. She apologized anyway. “James. I’m sorry. I didn’t know what I was talking about.”

James looked at her as Sirius asked, “What did I miss?”

“Nothing,” James said to Sirius. “Nothing of importance.” To Sarah, he said, “I accept your apology,” so that was that.

James and Sirius then showed off their designs to Lily, and asked for her expert advice on charms. Sarah found the whole conversation incomprehensible.

“I wish Remus were here,” said Sirius. “He could read these old Latin grimoires without falling asleep.”

“Let the fellow rest,” said James. “After all he’s done for us already—“

“But what did he do, really?” asked Lily.

Everyone looked at her.

“Seriously, what did he achieve by warning us? He saved the lives of lots of civilians, yes, but at great cost to the Order. He didn’t tell us we’d be up against Death Eaters too.”

“Lily,” said James, but he didn’t have anything to follow it with. 

“I just think maybe it would be better if Remus didn’t go back. By giving us only partial information, he dealt a blow to the Order. We shouldn’t have engaged in battle at all. We would have just evacuated the whole town had we known the Death Eaters would be there too.”

“And how are we supposed to know stuff like that?” asked Sirius.

“If we’re throwing Remus back to the werewolves, we need a spy in the Death Eaters too. Someone who can fake loyalty to them while working for us,” said Lily. 

“What are you looking at me for?” exclaimed Sirius. “I hate my family. I’ve never made a secret of it. I’m the last person anyone would believe is loyal to the Death Eaters.” 

Lily’s emerald eyes narrowed. “Maybe you could work that angle, say your apparent hatred of pureblood ideology is actually a ruse to infiltrate us, all because you want to sneak information back to the Death Eaters, since your true loyalty lies with your family—“

“Aargh! This is too complicated for me. I just want to fight bad guys. I don’t have what it takes to be a spy.”

“Do you think the information Remus gave us purposely led us into a trap?” Lily continued.

Everyone stared at Lily.

“Merlin, Lily, you know Remus wouldn’t—“

“I’m not saying he purposefully betrayed us, but maybe he was used to feed us harmful—“

“I don’t want to hear this,” said Sirius. “Remus is risking his life for us. His sacrifice has got to be worthwhile.”

“Greyback just didn’t tell him the whole plan,” said James soothingly. “Once Remus works his way higher up in the pack order, he’ll be able to give us more complete information. Look, Dumbledore assigned him there, so it’s got to be for the best.”

“What If Dumbledore’s wrong?” asked Lily. This question was greeted with stares from James and Sirius. “The whole idea of sending a spy into a werewolf pack, it’s crazy. There are more tried-and-true ways of dealing with werewolves.”

“Lyall Lupin was there last night,” remarked James. “Perfect example of werewolf-hunting tradition.”

“He’s not in the Order, is he?” asked Sirius.

“No, but he hates werewolves with a passion. There’d be no keeping him away once the news got out. He’s quite a fighter. He must have killed more werewolves than Sirius and me put together, and he’s not even an animagus. He brought weapons. He was dropping bombs on them from the air, flying to safety before they exploded. I don’t think the residents of Hogsmeade are too happy about his methods, but he does get results.”

“Lyall Lupin?” exclaimed Lily. “He always seemed so mild-mannered when we’d see him at the train station.”

“The man’s a professional,” said James admiringly. “I don’t think he recognized Remus. Remus said they’d always lock him in the basement for his transformations at home; his parents never actually saw his wolf form since he was a little pup.”

The fireplace suddenly blazed green. A woman’s face appeared in it. “Greetings, Potters. Is Potter Manor available to receive overflow from the Hogwarts hospital wing?”

“Yes!” screamed Lily, Sirius, James, and, a moment later, Sarah. 

The head withdrew from the flames, which blazed a brighter green. Soon, two people stepped out of the flames: Lupin, pale and bandaged, leaning heavily on a woman in a long, modest gown. James rushed forward to take over the job of supporting Lupin and assisted him to a couch. “You look like shit,” said James.

“Thanks,” said Lupin.

The woman cleared her throat. “I can assure you he looks a great deal better than he did this morning.” She then cast her professional gaze at Sirius. “Are you all right?”

“Some Death Eater cut him up pretty badly with a sectumsempra curse,” explained Lily. “He portkeyed straight back here and I patched him up. I figured you’d be busy.” 

The woman nodded. “Indeed. I need all the assistance I can get in these dark times. Thank you, Mrs. Potter. Mr. Black, would you like me to check—“

“I’m sure you have your hands full in your hospital wing ” said Sirius. “Don’t let us keep you.”

“Indeed. I must be getting back. Best of luck to all of you. And thank you for the chocolate.” She gave a brief quizzical glance to Sarah, and an affectionate look to Lupin. She returned to the fireplace, got a handful of powder from the jar on the mantelpiece, and threw it into the flames, turning them green. “Hogwarts Hospital Wing Office.” She stepped into the fireplace and vanished in a swirl of green flames.

“Can I get you anything?” Lily asked Remus. “Tea? Hot chocolate?” 

Remus waved aside such frivolity. “No time. All right lads. I need help coming up with an excuse, and there’s no one more practiced at that than you two. Hey, where’s Peter?”

Lily rolled her eyes. “You know him. Somewhere safe, undoubtedly.”

“But he comes up with the most convincing excuses,” objected Lupin.

“We’ll do fine without him,” James assured him.

“James and I are much more creative than Peter,” said Sirius proudly.

“That’s the problem,” sighed Lupin. “I suppose I’ll see what you two come up with. It’s got to be convincing, not just interesting. Numerous wolves must have seen you stab and bite me, so I need some explanation for how I’m still alive. Start by telling me exactly what happened, since my story has to fit what they saw. I must have passed out from blood loss pretty quickly. I don’t even remember dragging myself to the Shrieking Shack, although Madam Pomfrey says I must have.”

“About that,” said James.

“You didn’t exactly drag yourself,” added Sirius.

“You had some help.”

“And some hindrances.”

“It seemed like half the pack was determined not to let us drag you away.”

“You’re quite the popular guy, apparently.”

“So how did you manage?” asked Lupin.

“With my mighty blades!” said James proudly. “It was pretty difficult not to kill you with them, actually. Killing werewolves was as easy as pie.”

“Ah,” said Remus. Of course, he’d looked pale before.

“What?” demanded Sirius.

“Well. I suppose you killed all the werewolves I’ve managed to fool, leaving the ones who are still suspicious of me. I saw you stab… No matter. Thank you for saving my life.”

“At least I think our side got the one you told us to look out for. Big light grey, scar on his shoulder?”

“Surely Whitefang wasn’t defending me?”

“No, this was earlier, when we were flying around looking for you. I saw Minnie transfigure a lamppost into a cage that swooped down and trapped him. All he could do was howl helplessly through the whole battle. Then she picked off all the wolves who came to help him. She’s so fucking brilliant, and as graceful as a flying veela on a broom. No Death Eater could shoot her down, she kept that broom up all night long. I wish she’d ride mine. Some day she’ll come to her senses and marry me.”

Sirius’s friends all had a good laugh at that.

“You go together like cats and dogs,” remarked Lily.

“Be that as it may,” said Lupin, “why did two animals target one werewolf to capture alive, while killing the rest?”

“I’ve got it!” said Sarah. “Dumbledore ordered two of his other pets to retrieve his pet werewolf for him.”

“Other pets?” Sirius mulled it over. “Well, what powerful wizard wouldn’t want to terrify his enemies with a pet grim?” 

“Once this gets out, he’ll start a trend, I’m sure,” said James. “Puppy mills will churn out oodles of huge black grim puppies. Next year after people have realized they’re messy, completely untrainable, and they eat too much, fashion will move on and they’ll all get dumped. Hungry feral grim packs will roam the streets.”

“What is a grim?” asked Sarah.

“Magical creature,” explained James. “No, I’ll handle this, Sirius, you need to rest. Huge black dog, omen of death, haunts graveyards, sheds on the couch, makes messes on the floor. Pretty cool, but not nearly as cool as a stag of course.”

“Yeah, a stag you can accessorize,” said Sirius. “And you have to, really, since it’s not like they’re magical themselves in any way. You can decorate their antlers to look all sparkly. The big-antlered ones make great pets for wizards who are overcompensating for shortcomings. Although I’ve heard rumors about Dumbledore's wand, so that might not be the case here. Then again, he may have started those rumors himself. The question is, why would the most powerful wizard in the world want such a lame pet?” 

“Maybe for the irony?” suggested Sarah. “To have a deer kill wolves?”

“I like it,” said James. “Sends a message. Don’t underestimate us herbivores. We can be fierce.” 

“All right, Dumbledore sent his other pets to retrieve me,” said Lupin. “Then how did I escape?”

“With your extreme bravery, intelligence, and general fabulousness,” said Sirius. 

“I think I’ll need to be more specific.”

“Well, he obviously had Madam Pomfrey heal you,” said James. “So maybe she wasn’t a good guard?”

“She was quite overworked,” said Lupin. “I know! She gave me a pain potion meant to knock me out, but I only pretended to drink it. Then I crept out when she thought I was unconscious. I went back to the woods to get my wand and clothes where I’d left them before the attack. I did, actually, with help of course.” 

“I’ll tell Dumbledore and Pomfrey how incapable they are of keeping you trapped,” said Lily.

“Leave out the part about his other pets, though,” said James. “Remus dragged himself to the shack.”

“I don’t see why you don’t just tell him at this point,” said Lily. “Dumbledore’s not going to report two of his best fighters to the authorities.”

“If we tell him, then he’ll know how we did a lot of our pranks,” said Sirius. “That would spoil the mystery!”

Lily rolled her eyes, then addressed Lupin. “Shall I tell Miffy we’ll be five for dinner?”

Lupin shook his head. “It wouldn’t fit the story. Sarah and I should get back as soon as possible.”

Sarah looked down at the clothes Lily had loaned her. “I’ll change back.” She rushed back to her guest room to put on the clothes she’d worn to hitchhike back from the music festival.

The others were silent when she got back. They all looked at her enter the living room. Then Lily got two feathers from the vase on the mantelpiece. She handed one feather to Lupin. “Come back to us, Remus. The activation phrase is Love Nest. It should work even when apparition doesn’t.”

“Thank you, Lily.” He put the feather in his pocket.

Lily then surprised Sarah by handing the other feather to her. “It should work for muggles too, the magic’s all in the portkey, it doesn’t draw from the user. If something happens to Remus, there’s no reason for you to stay in that pack.”

Sarah stared at the feather, and could barely choke out a “Thank you.” She could escape at any time! Lily gave her a way out, because she trusted her to use it only in an extreme circumstance. She put the feather in her pocket. It was crumpled already.

“It should be strong enough for one or two people, if they’re both touching it. As long as it’s anywhere on your person, it should work as soon as you speak the activation phrase. It needn’t be in your hand. Be careful not to activate it accidentally.”

Sarah was reasonably confident that she’d never spoken the phrase “Love Nest” in her life, but now it seemed to teeter on the tip of her tongue, ready to jump off any moment. “Thank you,” she said carefully.

“Remus, when you obliviate her after this visit, remember to leave the memory of how to use this portkey.” 

“It will seem odd out-of-context like that.”

Lily shrugged. “Minds are great at making up reasonable explanations for nonsensical things. Call it a good luck charm or superstition or something. Make sure she uses it only if you’re, well, found out or something. If you need to leave the pack in a hurry, Remus, don’t worry about rescuing Sarah. She has her own escape route now. Just focus on getting yourself out safely.”

“Thank you, Lily,” he said. “I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Remus. You’re the one living in a feral werewolf pack for months. The thanks go the other way.”

And that, after Remus’s three friends gave him some gentle hugs, was that.

“Are you sure you’re safe to apparate?” asked Lily. “You’re still injured—“

“I’m used to it,” he said. “It’s fine. Sarah, I’m sorry.” He grasped her arm and pulled her into a whirling vortex of empty space. Then they were back in the dark cave, still illuminated by a marmalade jar full of flames. Sarah closed her eyes and waited for the world to stop spinning, leaning on Lupin for stability. She suddenly realized that she shouldn’t be leaning on an injured person and wobbled away, opening her eyes.

Lupin drew his wand. “I’ve got to erase your memory of that visit. Sorry, but the information that I’m a spy can’t get out. I’ll replace it with a memory of you being stuck in this cave. It’ll just be boring.” 

“You’re forgetting one thing.”

“What?”

“If I don’t know you’re a spy, I’ll kill you. If you’re not a spy, then you’re a hypocrite. You’re helping the werewolves get better at hunting humans. I was plotting your death before you took me here. I was just about to act.”

Lupin gave her a smile she recognized as the one he gave his students when they unknowingly said something ridiculous. “You, plotting my death? How would you go about killing me?”

“I’d let slip to the other werewolves that you’re a traitor. You’re a spy sent by humans. They’d kill you for me.” 

“So, if you don’t remember that I’m a traitor to Greyback, you’ll tell Greyback I’m a traitor. If you do remember that I’m a traitor, you’ll act like I’m not.”

“Yes.”

“Of course! Now that you have a portkey, you have no need to keep me around.”

“I planned this before I’d heard of portkeys.

“What? But with no means of escape, you’d die a slow and painful death afterwards.”

“You’ve heard of this thing called self-sacrifice, right?”

Lupin smiled and grasped her shoulder as she’d seen him do to his friends. “That’s brilliant. I’m sorry Miss Briarcliff, I underestimated you. If you hadn’t been born a muggle, I’m sure you’d have been a Gryffindor like us.” 

“Call me Sarah.” 

“Sarah. Thank you. You may call me Remus if you like. Oh Merlin, I’ve got to compose myself before we rejoin the pack. I shouldn’t look happy after a rout like that. I’ve got to look upset over our defeat, but it finally feels like I’m not alone in the pack anymore. It’s like I’ve got a fellow Gryffindor at my back, someone I can trust. Thank you. Thank you.” 

“You’re thanking me for threatening to kill you.”

“Not just the bravery of it, the brilliant strategy, the heroic self-sacrifice. I feel like I’m with my friends.” 

“So you’re not going to obliviate me?”

He thought, then concluded, “No need, now that Whitefang’s captured. Not until this is over, anyway. Then you can finally return to your normal life, and you’ll need to forget about all this to be able to do that of course.”

“What will you do after all this is over?”

“After Greyback’s pack is defeated? There are more Dark forces I can work on. The Order has been concerned about werewolves because Greyback has an uneasy alliance with our main enemy, a group called the Death Eaters, which is larger, more powerful, and arguably more evil, although they are all humans. They’re pureblood supremacists, who believe that pureblood wizards should conquer and enslave or kill all muggles, and even muggleborns like Lily, halfbloods like Professor Dumbledore, and purebloods they call blood-traitors like James and Sirius. Hardly anyone is pure enough to claim the title of a true witch or wizard by their standards. It’s odd that Greyback has chosen to ally the werewolves with them, since I’m sure they’re at least as contemptuous of werewolves as they are of everyone else. They’re just using us, promising to treat us better than the current human regime after they take over. They’re lying, of course, but I understand how desperation would make werewolves want to believe them. Our current treatment by the magical government is, well, not good.”

“What will you do after that?”

“I’m not planning to survive this war.”

“What?! It can’t be that bad. The Death Eaters must be outnumbered—“

“Oh, they are. Our side will win. There will be more casualties, though. If any human Order member dies while I live, I clearly wasn’t trying hard enough.” 

“Don’t say that! You deserve to survive this war at least as much as anyone else.”

“I don’t see the point. Once the war is over, and the Ministry of Magic isn’t expending all its resources fighting Death Eaters, they’ll be able to resume their usual peacetime activities, such as hunting werewolves to extinction. There will be great public demand for it now that Greyback’s pack has done so much for our reputation. Any politician who wants a successful career will have to come across as very tough on werewolves.”

“No! You’ll be a war hero! Surely they wouldn’t—“

“All right, after the war is over, I will open an ice cream shop next to a roller rink, and give free ice cream cones to you and all your friends whenever you drop by. Now that that’s settled, let’s go. You’ve done an excellent job of getting this inappropriate smile off my face, so I’m ready to report to Lord Greyback. Thank you.” 

Remus had apparently blocked the entrance to the cave with some very large rocks on his way out to impress Whitefang with his human-guarding skill, so now there were rocks to move. Sarah held the marmalade jar to illuminate the rocks as Remus worked, although she didn’t know if he really needed light. He levitated them out of their way with his wand. He looked even more tired afterwards. 

Sarah picked up his suitcase and they emerged from the cave into a beautiful evening, and walked to the nondescript patch of woods at the edge of the encampment. Remus put his hand out cautiously, then jerked it back. “Whitefang’s ward is still up,” he said. “So he’s still alive. He probably just got an alert telling him his ward is being tested, not that he can do anything about it in his current situation. I wonder if he set the alerts to notify Greyback as well.” He thought. “But I’m impatient to be reunited with my dear leader.” He drew his wand, thought a moment, then said, “Expecto Patronum!” A silver wolf leaped from his wand. “Sire, I’m sorry I was weak enough to be captured, but I did manage to escape and return home. May I please rejoin your pack?” The silver wolf ran through the ward as if it weren’t there. “Now we wait.”

Sarah looked at Remus, looking battered and exhausted. “Your disguise,” she said. 

“Which one?” 

“Your werewolf disguise. You look too human.”

“You’re right, thank you. It’s hard to cast a patronus in my wolfish form. Um…” He swayed slightly. Sarah wondered if he was going to faint. It seemed much too soon for him to be up and about after that battle. She reached for his hand. He grasped hers gratefully, looked at her with his perfectly ordinary brown eyes. “I can’t,” he said. “I’m stuck.” He let go of her hand. “Hit me.” 

“What?”

“Throw a punch at me. I’ve got to snap back into character or I’m sunk.”

That’s how Greyback found his lost wolf, struggling to restrain his human, who was fighting desperately to avoid being dragged back through the ward into the werewolf encampment. 

Greyback waved his wand in a complicated pattern, then reached out to grab Remus and Sarah, pulling them through the ward. Sarah felt her skin burn as she brushed the edge of the ward on her way through. Sarah gave up her struggle. Tears flowed from her eyes, unbidden. She slumped to the ground when Remus let go of her. Greyback pulled the suitcase through, resealed the ward with his wand, then turned to Remus.

“Lupin!” Greyback embraced Remus. There were tears in his yellow eyes as well. “I thought you were dead! How did you escape?” 

Remus took a deep breath. “Therein lies a tale,” he said. “Dumbledore put too much faith in his healer’s ability to keep an injured werewolf imprisoned. The methods she used before no longer hold me.” 

“I’ll need to hear everything, but I won’t make you tell it twice. Come tell everyone. The pups haven’t stopped howling since the battle. When we saw you dragged off, we assumed the worst. They’ll be overjoyed to have their teacher back. Come on. Bring your human.” But as Remus reached down to give Sarah a hand up, Greyback said, “Wait.”

Remus froze. 

“I’ll bring her, you’re injured,” said Greyback to Remus kindly as he grabbed Sarah’s arm with his clawed hand and yanked her up. “There’s no need for you to exert yourself.” He carried the suitcase in his other hand.

“Thank you, my lord,” said Remus.

They walked back to the clearing at the center of camp, Sarah doing her best not to make Greyback exert himself either. Her arm was going numb. 

Greyback threw his head back and howled a deep, loud howl that hurt Sarah’s ears and shook her bones. “Attention!” he boomed. “Especially the pups! Remus Lupin has returned!” Werewolves began to gather, stumbling from tents, limping from all corners of the camp.

The children, their faces tear-stained, ran fastest, mobbing Remus with hugs and hysterical laughter. “Professor Lupin! Professor Lupin! You’re alive! Welcome back! Welcome home!” 

Remus hugged them back, tears in his own eyes. “It’s good to be home. I missed you all.”

“I’ve been taking good care of the library,” said Angelique proudly. “I wouldn’t let anyone cry on the books.”

“Thank you, Angelique. I knew I could count on you.”

“Where’s Rex?” asked Jason. “Did he come back with you?”

The other kids looked at Jason.

“I know what they said,” Jason said defensively, “but that’s what they said about Professor Lupin too, and he came back, so—“

“Rex won’t be coming back,” Remus said. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to say you’re sorry,” said Angelique authoritatively. “It’s not your fault.”

“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, then,” said Remus. “But I saw him killed.”

“Who did it?” demanded Angelique. “Do you know which human? It was some human’s fault, obviously.” 

“It actually wasn’t a human,” said Remus. “Dumbledore must have acquired some new pets since I escaped. Rex was killed by a stag with blade-tipped antlers, some sort of magical beast.”

“Wait until everyone gets here,” said Greyback, so Remus was silent. The central clearing filled with werewolves, many looking at least as injured as Remus, and less expertly bandaged. 

Greyback turned to Sarah. “I’ll put this human away first.” He had dog breath. He dragged her away from Remus.

Remus’s eyes got wide, then he knelt before Greyback. “My lord, I hope I have not disappointed you too badly, although of course I will accept my punishment if I have. As you gave me that human, you have every right to take her away, but I hope that—“

Greyback laughed. “I’m not taking your human away, I’m just relieving you of the chore of restraining her for now, until you recover. I’ll put her into the cage with the new pup. You may rise.”

“Thank you my lord,” said Remus, getting up with some difficulty. 

Greyback dragged Sarah to a cage she hadn’t noticed before, made of wood that seemed to have grown together, by magic no doubt. Greyback opened it with a flick of his wand, threw her inside, and closed it with another wand flick.

She had company in the cage. A man, looking feverish, flushed and sweaty, lay on a rough bed made of a blanket laid over a pile of pine needles.  He had a young man’s attempt at a golden beard. A dirty bandage was wrapped around his arm. His eyes rolled frantically when the cage door was opened and Sarah was shoved in to fall on the floor near him. His bloodshot blue eyes locked on hers. “They caught you in Hogsmeade?” he asked. “What happened?” 

Sarah shook her head helplessly, overwhelmed. A person who’d been trapped in a cave all this time would know nothing about Hogsmeade. She looked to Remus. 

Her cagemate followed her gaze, then his eyes widened in shock. “Remus Lupin? They caught him too? Damn. I didn’t even know he was there. Haven’t seen him for months. Wait. Why isn’t he in here with us?”

Remus was being mobbed by welcoming werewolves. He shooed them away. “Back up, everyone. I don’t want to have to tell this twice.” The crowd obeyed.

Remus silenced the crowd with a look. “It’s good to be home. I feared I wouldn’t make it back. Dumbledore never lets go of what he considers his property, and he regards me as his pet werewolf. He put so much effort into training me, he’s unwilling to admit that he failed to break my will. Werewolves can never be tamed!”

This triggered some victorious howls from the crowd. Remus seemed to be gaining strength from the attention of his audience. Sarah glanced at the feverish man with whom she was sharing the cage. He was staring at Remus in horror.

“You’re the traitor!” the man suddenly exclaimed, once the howls had died down and Remus had been poised to speak again. “We knew there had to be a traitor in the Order, but you?”

“I am not a traitor!” said Remus, terrifying with fury blazing from his golden eyes, his sharp fangs bared. When the man recoiled, Remus took a deep breath and returned to his fully human-seeming form. He slowly approached the cage. “I’m a werewolf, Caradoc. I’m loyal to my own kind. You will be as well, soon.”

“Never!”

“The humans won’t take you back,” said Remus. “We’re all the family you have now. How can you be loyal to people who would kill you if they knew what you are?”

Caradoc turned his face away from him.

“I know you still feel mostly human now,” Remus continued. “That will pass. The wolf is growing in you, gaining strength. You must feel it already, a second mind in your head, thinking unfamiliar thoughts. When you transform with us next month, you’ll understand. It’s something to look forward to. You’ll revel in your wolf senses, your strength, the joy of the hunt. And I’ll help you adjust to your new life here. Working for Greyback isn’t really any different from working for Dumbledore.” He was right by the cage now. “Please believe me, Caradoc,” he said quietly, his brown eyes pleading. “Things aren’t as bad as they seem. We’ll talk more soon.”

Caradoc refused to meet his gaze. Remus turned to address his werewolf audience again. “He will learn,” he said calmly. “As we all learned.”

“Would you please hand me my cloak?” Caradoc asked Sarah very quietly. “I think they threw it over there.”

It was crumpled in the corner of the cage. Sarah got it and handed it to him. He nodded his thanks, then reached into a pocket. Some little candy, it looked like, as he popped it into his mouth, a grey sphere— 

“No!” yelled Sarah, but it was too late. He had crushed the suicide pill between his teeth and now lay still, his feverish shivers over.

Remus ran back to the cage and stared helplessly at Caradoc’s corpse. Then he stepped back to glare at the assembled werewolves, who backed away nervously. “You left him with a suicide pill?” he shouted. “Didn’t you search him?”

“We got his wand,” said one werewolf.

“Aargh!”

“Don’t worry, Lupin,” said Greyback. “The pups gifted at older ages often have trouble accepting their gift. Don’t blame yourself.”

“Thank you, my lord. Your wisdom is a comfort to me as always.” Remus looked out at the crowd, all waiting for him to continue his tale. “You know how it began,” he said, his voice as clear as when he was teaching his class. “We arrived at the Forbidden Forest as planned, and became our true selves with the power of the moon. I could smell humans in the air, so I tried to hunt them with my pack, but we soon discovered that the humans were literally in the air, flying on brooms and various winged steeds. We wolves on the ground could only wait for our prey to fall from the sky.

“I was so focused on the scent of our human prey, I didn’t even notice until it was too late that I was being stalked by a grim. A grim is a magical beast, a black dog the size of a bear. It’s usually just an omen, not an agent of death. It haunts graveyards. In this case, it attacked me. I felt its fangs close around my neck.” He gestured to his bandaged neck. His audience was aghast.

“I did my best to twist out of its grip, and I think I did manage to scratch it pretty well with my claws, but I couldn’t reach it with my fangs because of its tight grip on my neck.

“As I was fighting this beast, another strange creature arrived. It looked like a stag, but its antlers were tipped with metal blades. It stood guard as I fought the grim. When my packmates came to my aid…” for the first time, Remus let his voice break. “The stag killed them, charged and impaled them on those blades. My student Rex…” He had to pause for a moment. “He fought bravely.” His eyes sought out one person from the crowd. “His death was fairly quick,” he assured a weeping, wolfish woman. “It was the sort of death I hope to have. Better a quick, heroic death than a slow degrading one at the Werewolf Research Institute.” There were murmurs of assent at this. The woman nodded as she wept.

Sarah reached out to close the staring eyes of the corpse in her cage. His body still felt feverish.

Remus continued. “Other wolves came to my aid. With their help, I broke free of the grim several times, and we did manage to inflict some damage on the grim and stag, but I was recaptured. I’m afraid the fight is a blur. I must have lost consciousness from blood loss at some point.

“When the moon set, the agony of transformation briefly jolted me to consciousness. I saw my surroundings dimly, but recognized the smell of the setting of my nightmares, the shack where I’d been imprisoned for seven years, the walls gouged from my futile attempts to escape. There is no escape from the Shrieking Shack.

“I must have lost consciousness again, since the next thing I knew, I was in a private room in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing, wrapped in these bandages. Madam Pomfrey, the healer in Dumbledore's employ, had patched me up just as she used to, during the seven years I’d been imprisoned in that castle.” He smiled grimly. “I thanked her for her kind ministrations. I told her I had missed her and regretted ever leaving, for I didn’t fit in in a werewolf pack and longed for the comforts of civilization. I begged her to put in a good word for me with Dumbledore. She told me I had been naughty for escaping, but she hoped Dumbledore would forgive me and take me back.

“She gave me a potion she said would relieve the pain of my injuries. Then we heard a scream from a different part of the hospital wing. She waited until I seemed to be drinking the potion, then left to tend whatever injured human had screamed. 

“I knew this might be my only chance to escape. I didn’t drink the pain potion of course, knowing it would dull my senses and make me sleepy. Instead I snuck to a human patient, lying in a hospital bed with her wand beside her. I borrowed her wand for just long enough to cast a disillusionment spell on myself. I considered keeping the wand, but thought that might alert them to my escape sooner, so I left it there. Once disillusioned, I snuck out of the hospital wing, then out of the castle. I retrieved my own wand and clothes from where I’d stashed them in the Forbidden Forest, then apparated back to the cave where I’d stashed my human.” This included a casual gesture at Sarah. She didn’t like the way this directed the crowd’s attention to her.

Remus soon regained their attention. “I expected Whitefang to meet me at the ward around the camp. Is he all right?” He searched the crowd for the old werewolf.

Greyback stepped forward. “Whitefang didn’t come back with us. With you and him missing, there were some splinching accidents on our way back.”

Remus gulped. “But where is he? He’s not dead, or the wards would have collapsed.”

“Captured,” said Greyback grimly.

Remus gulped again. “Is he—“

“At the Werewolf Research Institute,” Greyback confirmed.

“How do you—“

“I have my sources. I know he was brought there this morning, just as I know that our attack last night was not a surprise. The humans had advance warning.”

“But how?” asked Remus.

“A seer named Sybill Trelawney, new professor of Divination at Hogwarts, prophesied our attack before we even arrived in the Forbidden Forest. Dumbledore sent out warnings to everyone in Hogsmeade, and notified the Order.”

“Are you sure it was a prophecy, and not a leak?” asked Remus.

“What?” asked Greyback, who seemed as surprised as Sarah at the introduction of this topic into their discussion. Some disturbed murmurs tumbled through their audience.

“You seem to have told the Death Eaters of your plans,” said Remus. “Unless they just happened to decide to attack Hogsmeade on the same night we did. It is not my place to question your judgment of course, but trusting humans is risky.”

At the look Greyback gave him, Remus dropped to the ground, but kept talking. “This alliance between werewolves and humans, is it truly an alliance? Or a human trick?“

“Silence!” said Greyback, so Remus shut up. “I said silence!” he added, and the crowd ceased its quiet rumblings.

“Our plans were foiled by the seer, Trelawney,” explained Greyback patiently. “She must die. If the humans get warnings of our plans after she is dead, then we can consider other possibilities for how they’re getting the information.”

“Very wise, my lord,” said Remus.

“You may rise,” said Greyback, so Remus did, somewhat shakily. “I need your expertise. That damned grim! And that stag! Those were humans in disguise, I know it. Real stags don’t tip their antlers with steel blades. Lupin, who were they?” 

“All animagi are required to register their animagus forms at the Ministry of Magic. I could check the registry for their names.” 

“Do that, once you look presentable enough to visit the Ministry. And that damn Lyall Lupin! He’s been a thorn in my paw for years. Lupin!” He was looking at Remus.

“Yes my lord?”

“Where does Lyall Lupin live these days? Is he still in Cardiff?”

“I don’t know, my lord.”

“You don’t know where your own father lives?”

“You are my sire, my lord. My human father and I haven’t spoken for a long time.”

“It’s time to renew the acquaintance. Lyall Lupin must die.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Greyback gave Remus an indulgent smile. “You look tired, son. You may go back to your tent to rest.”

“Thank you my lord.” Remus looked to Sarah. “May I take my human with me?”

“You sure you want the trouble now?” asked Greyback. “You could just leave her here.”

“I can handle one muggle,” scoffed Remus. “I’ll put her under the Imperius curse if necessary.”

“That’s my boy,” smiled Greyback. He opened the cage with a flick of his wand, reached in, grabbed Sarah’s arm in a clawed hand, and pulled her out. He looked at the corpse in the cage. “What’s in those suicide pills? You think the meat’s contaminated?”

“I don’t know,” said Remus. “I wouldn’t risk it, my lord.”

“You’re probably right.” He hoisted Remus’s suitcase with his other hand. “No one eat that,” he ordered, with a nod to the corpse. “Might be poisoned.” There were some grumbles at this.

Greyback walked them back to Remus’s tent as, with the show over, the crowd dispersed. “Rest up,” he said. “We might have a lot to do tomorrow.” 

“Yes my lord.”

Once inside, Remus unpacked his suitcase, returning various camping necessities to their usual places in his tent. “So, for dinner…” Remus looked dully at the kitchen-like area of his tent. “I’m sorry, after Potter Manor this must seem—“

“Remus, stop apologizing. This is fine.”

“It isn’t fine. It’s fucked up is what it is. Anyway, I could heat up a can of soup if you like.”

“Sure. Whatever. Thank you.”

Remus opened a can with his wand, transferred the soup into a bowl, heated it with his wand, and set it on the table with a spoon and glass of water. He filled a glass of water for himself and sat with her. “Once Whitefang dies in the Werewolf Research Institute, the wards around this camp will fall,” he said, thinking aloud. “I’ve got to get word to the Order to time their attack to that moment. Unfortunately, the Institute can prolong deaths for some time. Perhaps if the Order could infiltrate it…” He got some paper and a pencil and started sketching a diagram. “It’s very well-protected, but there must be a way for the Order to sneak in an assassin…”

“You’ve been there?” Sarah asked.

He nodded. “My father took me there when I was a boy. He told them he hoped I would go into the family business, so he was giving me a tour. The staff were quite friendly to me. My father keeps them well-supplied. Of course, he really took me there to show me what would become of me if I let my disguise slip.”

“Excuse me?” called a high, timid voice from outside. “Professor Lupin?”

Remus opened the flap-like door of the tent. “Yes? Ah, Deirdre. Do come in, please. Sit down.” He welcomed a wolfish woman in with a gracious sweep of his hand.

“I don’t mean to stay long,” she said, lingering just inside. “I just wanted to return this.” She held out a dog-eared copy of Prince Caspian. “He would have wanted it returned.”

“Thank you,” said Remus, taking it and putting it back on the shelf. He made a note of its return in the library ledger. “Rex always returned books promptly.”

“Now I’ll never know how it ends,” said Deirdre.

“If you wanted to check it out yourself—“

“No. No. It wouldn’t be the same without him reading to me. Thank you for teaching him to read, and lending him all those books. I had no idea there were all those stories in those marks on paper.” 

“Rex was an excellent student. I’m sorry—“

“It’s not your fault,” said Deirdre.

“Rex died defending me,” said Remus. “He was very brave. He died a hero. Would you like to come in for some tea? We could—“

“No, no. I should be going.” With a brief bitter look at Sarah, and a sad smile to Remus, she left.

Remus closed the door to the tent. “I’m very tired. I’m going to bed. Don’t worry about cleaning up, I’ll do it in the morning.” He retreated to his nest of blankets on the floor and bundled up in them, curling up to face the wall of the tent.

Sarah ate her soup in silence, watching him sleep. He should probably still be in a hospital bed, not the floor of a tent, no matter how clean and tidy. What if his injuries got infected? Did he have a fever? He was shivering. Maybe he needed another blanket. Sarah put down her spoon, stood, got the blanket off her bed, and approached Remus. She stopped when she remembered that he’d put some sort of magical barrier around it to stop her from murdering him in his sleep. Was it still up? If so, it would probably just burn her, like the one around the encampment. She could deal with that, she’d just pull her hand back fast. Maybe it had faded by now. She extended a cautious hand into his space and felt nothing but air, and relief.

She knelt to arrange the blanket over him, leaning into his space.

A cry suddenly assaulted her ears. Remus wasn’t shivering, he was shaking with sobs. There was no protective ward around him, only a silencing spell so she couldn’t hear him cry.

“Oh Remus!” She looked for a spot that didn’t have a bandage on it to place a comforting hand. A spot on his side seemed safe. He felt hot through his faded t-shirt. “I’m sorry.” She was starting to talk like him. “I mean, it’ll be all right. I mean…” She went to her bedside for the tissues he’d transfigured from leaves. The sound of his crying shut off as if with a switch when she left, and switched back on when she returned. She gave him the tissues without a word.

He sat up and used them. “His death was so bloody pointless,” he was finally able to say. “If I could have told him, if there was some way I could have got the information across without ruining my whole mission…”

Sarah found an uninjured spot to place a hopefully comforting hand again. Remus felt hot.

“Should I tell the Order?” Remus wondered. “His family ought to know, to have some sort of closure, but if they figure out that it was my fault, I didn’t think to check for his suicide pill before subjecting him to that speech, I put on such a show for Lord Greyback but I should have realized how Caradoc would take it. It’s my fault.”

Sarah suddenly realized that she’d been misinterpreting this. “Oh! Caradoc. Right. I’m sorry.” She realized she was looking towards the bookcase that held Prince Caspian.

Remus followed her gaze, then shot her a frighteningly angry look. “I’m not mourning Rex,” he said coldly. “Rex was a monster, a Dark creature. James and Sirius were heroes to kill him. The world is better off without him. You never saw his true form, a vicious wolf searching Hogsmeade for humans to bite, attacking my friends with such fury...“

“He thought he was protecting you!” Sarah found herself shouting. “The least you can do is honor his memory by mourning him properly.”

“Werewolves instinctively serve their higher-ranking packmates,” said Remus. It sounded like a quote from _Lupine_ _Lawlessness_. “Rex died defending me because of his instinct to serve his pack.”

“Remus! He was your student! He was brave like you.”

“There was nothing brave about that monster! He thought it would be easy, he thought we’d have the advantage of surprise, and I couldn’t tell him…”

His claws, sinking into his palms, were drawing blood. He threw his head back and howled. The inhuman sound hurt her ears, but she leaned towards Remus, wanting to bear witness to his grief.

He shoved her away with his clawed hand. The sound of his howling switched off once she was outside the silencing spell.

Sarah returned to the little folding table and chair. While this space was large for a tent, it was too small to afford privacy to two people. Thanks to the silencing spell, it was possible to pretend, for the sake of politeness, that Remus wasn’t howling.

——-

In the morning, he was puttering in the kitchen again. “Porridge?” he asked when he noticed she was awake. “There’s still some fresh milk left.

“Oh. Yes, Thank you. But you don’t have to make breakfast, you’re still injured.”

He shrugged. “We heal fast. Don’t think of me as a human.” 

Sarah went to the bathroom and changed from his faded t-shirt, which served as her nightgown, into her hitchhiking clothes.

Remus served breakfast. “I’m sorry about last night.”

“It’s all right. Well, the situation’s all wrong obviously, but you have nothing to apologize for.” 

“You don’t deserve to have all this dumped on you, to be trapped in a tent with a howling werewolf.”

“Lupin!” called Greyback’s loud, deep voice from outside. “You awake?” 

Remus rushed to open the door, and dropped to the floor to submit to his pack leader. In a moment, Sarah dropped too.

“You may rise,” said Greyback, stepping into the tent, so they did.

“My lord,” said Remus. “How may I serve you? Are there any particular subjects you’d like me to cover in this morning’s Human Impersonation class?”

“Class is cancelled,” said Greyback brusquely. “I have a different job for you. You’ll be leading the mission to rescue Whitefang from the Werewolf Research Institute.”

Remus blinked. Then he gestured to the diagram on the table. “I was just about to suggest that. We can’t abandon him to the humans. I’ve been trying to think of a way in. It will take finesse rather than brute force.”

Greyback admired the diagram, then gave Remus a fanged grin. “You’re such an asset to the pack. I’m proud of you, son. Don’t worry, I won’t be sending you in alone. The Dark Lord appreciates our work, so he offered us the use of some of his Death Eaters. He sent one to coordinate a plan.” He called to someone outside the tent. “Come in.”

The young man who reluctantly entered the tent looked familiar, although his disgusted, contemptuous expression was not. Sarah recognized that handsome, aristocratic face, those luxurious black eyelashes around those pale grey eyes. Sirius seemed to have recovered from his injuries quickly. She wondered when he’d had time to get a haircut. 

“Black,” said Remus with a cold nod. “Welcome. Would you like some tea?”


End file.
